#i received games in exchange if anyone is wondering

[vixy-exists]

Demonica Yukari - a thank-you gift for my friend @thechewieone!

You can't see it much (due to the picture being tiny) but here, have the noise filter ones

#i received games in exchange if anyone is wondering #maybe its just my incompetence but how tf do you apply noise in krita normally??? #had to use a completely white layer and then overlay it because it doesn't work properly??? idk #anyway i hate drawing the demonica #smt #megaten #shin megami tensei #my art #smt strange journey #smt sj #persona #persona 3 #takeba yukari #yukari takeba #god i hate tagging sometimes

[theclairvoyage]

Sour Lemonade (One-shot)

AO3 | Main Masterlist

Your nephew's little league baseball games take up many of your summer evenings, and it's not the dust or the concession stand treats that keep you coming back - it's one of the coaches, Joel Miller.

Pairing: Little league coach!Joel Miller x f!reader

Warnings: 18+, MDNI! alternate universe, adult language, alcohol consumption, smut, unprotected p in v, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), fluff, flirting, angst, mentions of physical violence, light choking, baseball talk, mentions of child death, mentions of infidelity

WC: 12k

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Dust flies into your face, obscuring your view of the baseball diamond. “Fuck,” you spit, the sudden inconvenience enraging you. Aggressively, you wipe your lips with the back of your forearm, noticing now how sticky, slimy, and itchy your skin is from all the sweat and dirt. And the pirate bugs are relentless, tiny daggers pricking your pores at every moment. Each swat of your exposed skin produces a tiny black smear, only to be replaced by another miniscule, predatory black dot.

“Does anyone have some goddamn bug spray?” Anger invites itself to the baseball game now, alarming some of the innocent parents watching their 8-year-old sons try to play America’s favorite pastime. Your sister, who dragged you to this hell hole, tugs on your sleeve as she hops up from the bleachers.

“Jesus, can’t go anywhere without you cussing up a storm… no wonder your nephew knows all these colorful words,” she scolds you, your name rolling off her tongue with a sharp bite as she stomps over to the bathrooms. The rage inside you cools a bit, returning to its home in the corner of your stomach. She swings her tote from under her arm to her front, digging in the bottomless pit for some bug spray. She pulls out a pink spray bottle with feminine letters, and you already know it doesn’t have DEET.

“Sorry, Mer—for the cussing. But also, do you have anything containing any carcinogens? Need ultra strength right now,” you say, trying to ease the tension. She snorts and rolls her eyes, exchanging the pink bottle for a familiar green one. OFF! is plastered in big font on the front.

“Ahhhh,” you sigh, spraying the familiar harsh scent on your skin and clothes. She laughs, taking a big step away from the cloud of haze surrounding you. The mist cools your skin, though you know it’ll stick once it’s dried—you don’t care at this point. It’s the third inning, and you can’t handle another hour and a half of being a trained insect assassin.

“Thanks. Also, how d’ya know Noah isn’t learning cuss words at school? Or on YouTube,” you remind her, pointing a DEET-covered finger in her face. She ponders it for a moment, jaw ticking back and forth.

“Well, either way—these parents are going to blacklist you if you don’t put a filter on it.” You wave her off, grimacing.

“Meredith, let me put it bluntly—I don’t give a fuck,” you say, accentuating the last word and sticking your neck out. She laughs loudly and smacks your shoulder.

“Y’know, Noah loves that you come to his games. And I want to keep you around, so… I guess I can tolerate it,” Meredith says with a half-smirk, snatching the green bottle from your sticky fingers. “Let’s go back before the damn game is over.”

“Hey! Language!” you point at her, eyes widening in mock shock. A throaty laugh leaves her lips. The wind picks up again, sending a twister of dirt and dust your way, so hard it stings your legs. You curse yourself for not wearing pants.

Back at the bleachers, you find that your language is the least concern of these parents. It’s the bottom of the fourth inning, and the score is 2-9. Noah’s team looks somber as they take the field. Moms are perched on their bleacher chairs with crossed legs, quietly fanning their faces with paper programs with pursed lips. Dads spit their sunflower seeds and tobacco into the grass aggressively with arms crossed, shaking their heads with each dropped ball and fumbled groundout. A sharp contrast is the cacophony of shrill screams and boisterous laughter from children running around the nearby empty fields, with not a care in the world. They’re just happy to be here.

“Sheesh… tough night,” Meredith says solemnly in your ear. You nod, sucking your lips into your mouth. The pitcher on Noah’s team walks another batter, and a man, presumably one of the coaches, emerges from the dugout and steps onto the field, holding his palm up to the umpire.

“Time!” The umpire calls, waving both hands in the air a few times. You study the man as he approaches the pitcher, surprised at what you see.

He’s taller than average, but not too tall. His trim body is lined with lean muscle, though he’s somewhat soft in the middle. Broad shoulders stretch his gray t-shirt. Graying brunette curls peek under his hat, kissing the top of his strong, tanned neck. Strong legs stride quietly, though confidently, toward the poor boy, who is clearly distraught. The man kneels and puts a hand on the pitcher’s shoulder as he speaks to him. The boy nods, cracking a small smile and sniffling as the man jostles him softly. He told a joke, perhaps—whatever it took to get the kid to smile. You find yourself smiling, too, watching the pair interact. The man has a calming presence that seems to have trickled into the crowd. The tension in the air is less frigid, palpable. He high-fives the boy and stands, returning to the dugout. His gaze sweeps the field, giving his players a thumbs up, before turning to the crowd and locking eyes with you.

Shit. His face takes your breath away, complete with a curved nose, high cheekbones, plush lips crowned with a full mustache, and an angled jawline dotted with brown and gray hairs. His smoldering chocolate eyes, though, are what hypnotize you the most. He’s still staring at you, likely analyzing the structure of your features like you are to him. You notice his stride falters momentarily before catching himself, but his eyes never stray from yours as he returns to the dugout. Heat radiates from your cheeks. Your heart thuds in your chest, pulse racing at this gorgeous stranger checking you out. Meredith nudges you with her elbow.

“I’ve never seen anybody get eye-fucked like that,” she whispers, and you can’t prevent the loud guffaw that escapes from your mouth. You clap a hand over your mouth quickly and whip your head toward her.

“Who is that?!” you squeal, clutching her wrist.

“That’s Joel Miller, one of the coaches,” she whispers, craning her neck to look at him in the dugout. “His nephew is on the team. Brother is that guy sitting behind home plate here,” she points, alerting you to an attractive Latino man with shiny black curls and a similar strong nose. Damn. He’s fine as hell, too. Before you turn to look at him again, Meredith grips your leg.

“He’s staring over here, don’t look,” she whispers. You can’t help but smile and feel giddy, like a sixth grader developing their first crush.

The game ends on a higher note, with Noah’s team lessening the gap and ending 6-10. As parents trickle from the stands to wait for their boys out by the dugout, you try to catch a glimpse of Joel, who is picking up stray baseball bats and gloves, handing them to their rightful owners. Noah ambles over to Meredith and you, grin plastered on his dirt-stained face. He wraps his sweaty arms and hands around your midsection.

“Hey, buddy. You did great,” you beam at him. He sighs heavily and looks up at you, big blue eyes laced with disappointment.

“We didn’t win, though,” he laments, wiping his dirty face off on your shirt.

“S’not all about winning, my dude. Gotta have fun and try to get better every day,” you comfort him, patting the back of his sweaty jersey.

“That’s some good life advice right there,” a deep, sexy, Southern-accented voice interrupts. You snap your head up and see Joel, who’s already looking at you. God, he’s even more attractive up close, and he smells good, like pine and musk. His eyes travel your face before dipping down to your lips, quickly reverting to your eyeline.

“Joel! This is my sister,” Meredith introduces you, pulling Noah from your grasp. Joel holds out a hand. You grab it and shake, relishing the warmth and size of his hand. The two of you stare at each other for a moment before he lets go.

“Nice to meet ya. I think some of the parents are gettin’ drinks later, after puttin’ the Rugrats to bed,” he says, flashing a jaw-dropping smile at you. Meredith chimes in, saving you once again from your own awkward silence.

“That sounds great! We’ll definitely stop by, right?” she asks you, nudging you. You tear your eyes from Joel’s and nod.

“Yes—though I need a shower. I stink,” you admit, scrunching your nose. A deep chuckle emits from Joel, shoulders shaking with laughter. Your heart skips a beat.

“Y’can’t be that bad—at least y’look good,” he says with a grin, pearly whites blinding you. Your heart falters completely at his compliment and you’re frozen, like a mosquito inside a solid block of amber. Meredith, for the umpteenth time today, saves you from looking like an absolute fool.

“Joel, wait ‘til you see her all cleaned up! We gotta go get this kiddo showered and ready for his sleepover, see you in a bit!” she says, clutching your wrist and leading you and Noah toward the parking lot. Peering over your shoulder, you catch Joel’s eyes drifting up and down your figure. His smile fades, expression morphing from excitement, to astonishment, to desire. Oh, fuck.

Two hours later, Meredith and you are arm in arm, walking up to the bar the parents and coaches had chosen for the rendezvous. The summer heat has loosened its grip on the city, with gentle summer gusts and a Starburst-colored sunset replacing it. Your dirty and sweat-ridden clothes are replaced with some jean shorts and a fresh muscle tee, and you remembered to put lotion on your legs for once.

Meredith opens the creaky wooden entrance door, and you spot the baseball group in a corner of the bar. Eight parents and all coaches are here, each sporting a mug of some light and probably domestic beer. All greet you with either a wave or a loud greeting—they must’ve gotten started drinking early. You spot Joel sitting next to his brother, Tommy—both are staring at you as you approach the group.

“Since you’re late, you have to buy shots,” says one of the moms, lifting her empty beer glass.

“Fine, Katy—but it’s gonna be tequila!” Meredith quips, inciting a grimace from Katy and cheers from all the men at the table. “Let’s go up to the bar,” Meredith murmurs in your ear, setting your purses down on two empty chairs the group saved for you. You try not to look at Joel but feel his magnetizing gaze on you, and you make eye contact with him. His eyes are molten dark chocolate, sweeping over your face with a glimmer of want. You crack a small smile and his eyes latch onto your lips immediately. Before your knees buckle, you break eye contact and follow Meredith to the bar.

“So, you gonna fuck him, or what?” She teases once you’re both out of earshot of the group. You land a playful slap on her arm and drop your jaw.

“Mer! I don’t even have his number! Or know how old he is, or if he’s an ex-con, or a child molester, or a serial strangler,” you ramble, pulling a laugh from her.

“He’s not any of those things, but he’s in his fifties, I know that. Doesn’t look like it, though,” she says, eyebrows arching. He’s got some years on you, for sure, but you’ve had an experience or two with an older man—though this one terrifies you. His eyes alone could convince you to do almost anything.

The bartender pours up double-digit tequila shots, garnished with salted rims and limes, and plops them on a serving tray. Meredith hoists it up and you walk back to the table, making sure to put some extra swing in your hips in case Joel’s watching. You can tell from your peripheral that he is, in fact, staring at you. Something fizzes in your chest—warm, wanting.

“Cheers to not getting run-ruled today!” Tommy cheers as everyone clinks their shot glasses together. You down yours quickly, anticipating the spicy aftertaste. And boy, it burns like hell as it glazes down your throat. You suck on the lime and try not to shiver. Whoops and cheers fill the empty bar as everyone finishes their shots.

After a few beers and shots later, you’re feeling loose and giddy. Your end of the table is talking about the godforsaken umpire from tonight’s game, somewhat split from the other half of the table, which is discussing the MLB playoffs. Feeling a familiar pull, you turn and see Joel smiling at you. Once you make eye contact, he winks, which sends you reeling. He’s about to get up from his seat when one of the moms waltzes her way over to him, curling her polished claws around his shoulder.

You wouldn’t be surprised if he preferred her over you—she’s petite, with long blonde hair, tan skin, blue eyes, and perky fake boobs. She looks great, you admit, and she’s closer to his age. Sadness looms in your belly and your smile fades as his attention diverts to her. Oh well, you think. Good thing it didn’t go too far. Resigned, you join the conversation and try to focus on anything but Joel.

The night carries on, and you find yourself unbothered by Joel. Meredith completely let loose, singing along to the music echoing throughout the bar. Everyone at your end of the table is telling jokes, clinking glasses, and enjoying each other’s presence. It’s a fun night, you admit to yourself. You made every effort to not pay attention to the other end of the table but felt Joel’s eyes on you constantly.

What you didn’t realize was how much he wanted you to be the one pressed up against him, with his arm curled around your waist or his rough fingers stroking the smooth skin of your thigh. He needed to get away from this kid’s mom—she was newly divorced and obviously ready for a rebound. Yeah, she was attractive, but nothing about her excited him—if anything, he was irritated by her blatant advancements. The final straw was when she crept her hand up his denim-clad thigh and squeezed close to the apex.

“The hell are you doin’?” he says with a laugh, incredulous. She licks her glossy lips and leans in toward his ear.

“Oh, I think you know, big boy,” she murmurs in her sexiest voice. Joel is turned off. Not wanting to be rude, he lightly grips her wrist and pulls her hand back. You, unfortunately, look over right as he grabs her hand.

“Not interested, dear,” he murmurs back, watching the frustration grow on her face.

“Fine, Miller—there’s plenty more who want it,” she boasts. She snatches her manicured hand away and moves onto your side of the table, picking another innocent victim.

Annoyed, you stand and walk up to the bar, back facing the group. Guess her little routine worked on Joel—he really ate it up, even touched her arm. You chide yourself for letting this unnerve you—you don’t even know the guy, and for all you do know, he might be a sleazeball.

“Need a break from the loudmouths?” the bartender asks, half smiling. You nod, rolling your eyes playfully.

“Too much testosterone over there,” you retort, “I’ll take a Sprite.” She nods and punches a button on the soda gun, filling up a tall glass. Staring at the bubbles fizzing over the ice cubes, you feel a breeze on your side. It’s Joel, finally separated from his bimbo of the night.

“Hey, darlin’, can I get you a drink?” he asks, smooth, sugary voice tickling your eardrums. He sounds sexy as fuck. You hold his gaze but don’t smile, creating an icy wall between the two of you.

“Is your girlfriend okay with that?” you sneer, turning to take a sip of your Sprite. His shoulders sag just slightly, but you see it from the corner of your eye.

“She ain’t my girl, promise. She’s tryna find a rebound,” he murmurs apologetically. You shrug.

“Seems like she was getting close to getting one.” Ouch. It hits low and painful in his belly, though he understands.

“Listen, I know what it looked like. Promise ya, it ain’t nothing. She ain’t my type,” he says, eyes sweeping your face. Guilt pangs you, and you turn to look at him. Fuck. His eyes are solemn, repentant—he’s saying sorry, and he doesn’t even need to. You sigh deeply, feeling that the alcohol is forcing you to be honest with him.

“Joel, look—I’m sorry, I shouldn’t ha—,” you start, but he interrupts you, putting a calloused palm up and shaking his head.

“No need t’apologize, sweetheart. I get it. She was all over me,” he says, end of his sentence filled with a playful tone. You giggle quietly.

“Oh yeah, she was two seconds away from sinking her teeth into you,” you joke, chuckles exchanging between the two of you. Relief fills you, warm and cleansing. He stares at you for a moment before speaking again.

“So, that drink…” he says, a lopsided grin plastered on his rugged face. God, he’s handsome. You can’t hold off much longer.

“I ‘spose,” you tease, “Guess you owe me one, anyway.” His half-grin turns whole, smile sending a zip of desire down your spine. He leans close to your ear, sweeping your hair over your shoulder. The touch of his warm skin on yours and the proximity of him almost makes you jump.

“I’ll make it up t’ya, swear on it,” he says, voice an octave lower and Southern accent dripping with something you’re not quite ready to identify. You clamp your thighs together instinctively, another shiver rippling through you like that of the tequila shot. Joel waves the bartender over and orders your drink of choice and whiskey neat.

“So… you live with Meredith?” Joel inquires, watching you as he sips the amber liquid. You shake your head, twirling the straw around your drink.

“Nope, but I might as well with how much I’m over there, helping with Noah and whatnot.” He nods.

“I had a daughter once. Y’know what they say… it takes a village,” he says, tone laced with melancholy. Once?

“I hate to ask, but… what happened to her?” you ask carefully, hesitant to look at him.

“She passed away when she was little. Car accident. S’alright, though—it was a long time ago,” he says, smiling at you wistfully. You put a hand on his bare forearm, and he almost melts into a puddle.

“I’m sorry, Joel. That’s so awful. I can’t imagine experiencing something like that. Noah’s my nephew, but I wouldn’t be able to go on if something happened to him,” you add, hoping to soothe his pain.

“Enough about me, darlin’, I wanna know more about you,” he says, covering your hand with his. His touch is electric on your skin.

“Nothing exciting, trust me,” you say with a shrug. He scoffs.

“I’d be shocked to hear that you’re single,” he says, winking at you again. You shove him playfully.

“Prepare to be shocked,” you quip. He shakes his head and looks up at one of the TVs.

“S’a damn shame,” he laments. The alcohol sends courage racing through your veins.

“For whom?” you tease, mirroring his wink. His smile fades just slightly as he takes you in, desire washing over him. When he speaks again, his voice is even deeper than before.

“Not for me, that’s for sure.” Your stomach drops at his admission, though your face doesn’t show it.

“Yeah? Why’s that, Miller?” He takes another sip of his whiskey, eyes locked on yours.

“You kiddin’? Look at you,” he says, whistling lowly, eyes traversing your frame. If you weren’t blushing before, you are now. You wave him off and sip your own drink.

“Oh, stop. I bet you get the best of the best coming up to you,” you say, playing it cool. He takes another sip, swallowing with a hmm-mm.

“Darlin’, the best of the best is sittin’ next to me, and I reckon I got some groveling t’do if I wanna see her again,” he admits. He takes his baseball cap off, revealing thick, gorgeous curls, hairline swept with gray locks. He runs a hand through them before sliding the cap back on. Admiring his profile, you watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. Your gaze travels down to his neck, which might just be your favorite part of him at the moment—thick, tan, jugular vein bulging. You can almost see his pulse pounding at his carotid. Fuck, he makes your pulse pound. Sucking in a deep, calming breath, you avert your gaze to your near-empty drink, swishing the ice cubes around nervously. Joel nudges your arm with his elbow. You look at him, trying your hardest to maintain a straight face, but seeing his smile makes you grin.

“What?” you ask, noticing his eyes dipping down to your lips.

“Was just thinkin’,” he says, finishing the last of his whiskey as he eyes you inquisitively.

“About?” you press, tilting your ear toward him and raising your brows. He laughs at your facial expression and leans in, lips brushing your hair and nearly grazing your ear.

“’Bout what it would be like t’kiss you,” he hums, voice dripping with lust. Your eyes widen briefly, shock quickly morphing into nervousness, then anticipation as your stomach twists.

“Think I need another drink before then,” you say, slowly turning to face him. He’s close, close enough that you feel his breath on your face. He’s half-smiling again, brown eyes spanning your face.

“Nervous?” he taunts lowly. You look up at the TV and nod slowly.

“Darlin’, y’got nothin’ to be nervous about. I ain’t gonna make ya do anything y’ain’t comfortable with,” he says, face still close to your ear. You face him again, staring intently into his eyes.

“Oh, it’s not that. I’m afraid… you’ll be hooked,” you test him, hoping your bravado overshadows your nerves. His nostrils flare just slightly before he clears his throat.

“Reckon I need another drink, too—I might not survive,” he says, catching you off guard. A loud laugh escapes your lips. Joel is delighted at the sound and wonders how you’d sound doing other things, like underneath him or as his tongue unravels you. Suppressing an erection, he waves the bartender over and orders both of you another round.

“Wanna get some air?” he questions you, tipping his head toward the patio area. You nod, chewing on your straw nervously. The idea of being alone with him makes you squirm. You stand and he guides you outside, firm hand on your lower back. His fingertips burn into your back.

“Lemme just tell Mer I’m stepping outside,” you say. He nods. “Meet ya out there?” he offers, and you clink the rim of your glass to his in agreement. You watch him saunter over to the patio doors, salivating at the way his jeans hug his hips and ass. Meredith isn’t worried by your absence at all, still laughing and talking loudly with the group. She’s drunk.

“Mer, I’m stepping out back if you need me,” you say into her ear. She turns to you, holding your chin.

“Y’gonna kiss him, finally? He’s been tryna do it for the last hour!” she spits into your ear. Your lips quirk into a smile.

“Maybe, dunno. We’ll find out shortly,” you reply nonchalantly, shrugging as you turn to leave the table. She pinches your ass as you walk away.

Anticipation bubbles in your chest as you get closer to the patio. With a deep breath, you push the doors open and see Joel leaning up against the railing, hip cocked to one side. The patio is dotted with dim string lights and overlooks a small pond with a fountain, moonlight glimmering on the surface. The trickling of the water is soothing, a nice contrast to the loud music and voices inside the bar. He turns his body toward you, arm leaned against the railing as he watches you.

“Thought maybe I scared ya off,” he teases. You stand next to him, arm brushing his as he turns to face the pond again.

“Not in the slightest. Your girl back there, though? Not going within 20 feet of her,” you tantalize him, and he rolls his eyes as he chuckles.

“She ain’t even a blip on my radar, darlin’,” he says, voice shifting from playful to sensual. You feel his hot gaze on your face. Slowly, he dips his head closer to yours. You turn and lock eyes with him. You want him, though your expression is almost hesitant—his is pliant, asking permission. You look down at his plush lips and lean in while closing your eyes.

When your lips finally meet, a sensation roils through you like you’ve never experienced. You feel like a fishing boat in the North Sea, tossed around, dizzy, and soaked by the icy waves as they threaten to pull you under. You’re completely at the mercy of his lips, his touch. The kiss is slow, yet fiery—unlocking passion in both of you that has either been dormant or never existed. At some point, Joel turned to face you and pulled you flush to him, thick arms wrapped around your torso, squeezing you like he can’t afford to let go. You reach for his hair and knock off his baseball cap, and he laughs against your mouth.

It doesn’t take long for your tongues to tangle and the kiss to reach a new level of hot and heavy. He’s gripping your ass; you’re shoving your hands up his shirt. He’s breaking the kiss to nip at your neck and jawline; you’re moaning softly. He’s groaning into your skin at the sounds you make, telling you how good you are; your nails are carving shapes into the skin of his back.

You pull back, panting, fingers still latched onto his curls. Concerned eyes stare into yours, worried he crossed a line. You shake your head and laugh incredulously, glancing over at the moonlit pond. It’s surreal, the way you’re feeling now—none of your dreams have ever been so enchanting as this moment. Joel strokes your cheek softly, needing to know your thoughts.

“Everything alright?” he murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheekbone.

“Yes! Oh god, everything’s—amazing, I just didn’t know if—,” you stammer, trying to force the thousand thoughts swirling in your mind into a coherent sentence.

“D’you wanna get outta here, darlin’? I understand f’you say no, but good lord, I want you,” he breathes, searching your eyes for a semblance of hesitation or uncertainty. He doesn’t find either. Your pupils dilate ever so slightly, tongue darting out to lick your lips.

“Fuck yes,” you breathe, sending him over the edge. He smirks and releases you momentarily to pick up his fallen ball cap, tossing the sweaty fabric over his curls before grabbing your hand to guide you back inside. It’s hasty, the way he closes his tab and signs his receipt, tossing the pen back behind the bar with a chuckle.

“Let me tell Mer I’m leaving,” you tell him. He nods.

“I’ll wait here for ya, don’t need ya walkin’ in the dark parkin’ lot alone this time of night.”

“A gentleman, too? Hopefully that doesn’t carry over to the bedroom,” you coo, putting on your sultriest voice. His eyes are black as sin, sweeping over your body slowly.

“Oh, I am—ladies first,” he quips, enjoying the view as you turn to walk toward the table. Meredith is perched on the lap of one of the dads, whispering in his ear.

“Mer—I’m leaving. I’ll call you in the morning, yeah?” You shout over the loud chatter of the group and the music. She winks at you and gives you a languid thumbs up. Still drunk. You narrow your eyes at poor lad she’s sitting on, giving him a silent warning. He throws his palms up in the air in surrender. Meredith rolls her eyes at you before turning back to him.

Joel takes your hand as you walk out of the bar, giving the back a quick kiss. The excitement and thrill of leaving with him has you giddy, springy. Your steps are bouncier than before, confidence buzzing inside you. This fine man wants you, has wanted only you since he laid eyes on you, and is taking you home. Your past one-night stands have never been so exhilarating.

Joel leads you to a big silver truck, opening the passenger door for you and helping you into the plush leather seat. He swats your ass as you hop in, laughing at the yelp that escapes you. Trotting over to the driver’s side, he hops in and wastes no time getting out of there.

“Your place or mine?” He asks as the truck cruises onto a main road.

“Mine,” you reply, starting to feel nervous. Maybe a familiar location will calm your nerves a bit.

“Lead the way, darlin’.” You guide him to your apartment, which is maybe 10 minutes from the bar. He grabs your hand as you both speedwalk into the building, eager to rip your clothes off and finish what you started at the bar.

As soon as you’re inside your apartment, Joel rips his cap off and hoists you up, your back pressed against the door. Your legs encircle his waist and pull, crashing your hips together. His lips devour you hungrily, teeth nibbling your lower lip and hands frantically roaming over you. “Where?” he murmurs in your mouth, and you point to your agape bedroom door. You didn’t make your bed, but you couldn’t give less of a fuck right now, and neither does he. He carries you inside the dark room and lies both of you on the bed, your legs still wrapped around his midsection.

“Need t’see you,” he pants, and you point to the lamp on your bedside table. He twists the knob, filling the room with dim, amber lighting. His mouth latches back onto yours before moving down to your soft neck and collarbone.

“Off,” he says, tugging at the collar of your muscle shirt. You lift your arms up and let him tear the fabric from you, remembering that you didn’t wear a bra once you hear him curse.

“Fuck,” he groans, “look at you.” He squeezes your breasts, taking a nipple into his warm mouth. You inhale sharply, running fingers through his tousled curls as he sucks on one and moves to the other. He kisses down your stomach until he meets denim, sitting up and grasping the waistband of your shorts. He peers at you from poignant, hooded eyes.

“Can I take these off?” he asks softly, surprising you. He’s gentle, obedient, almost submissive to you, though you don’t realize what a treasure you are in his eyes. He wants to savor this, make sure it’s perfect for you. Your chest is heaving, nerves so alight that you almost forget to respond.

“Please,” you affirm, and he doesn’t need to be told twice.

You’re already soaked—you felt it once you sat down in his truck, the damp fabric of your panties pushed up into you. He unbuttons and slides your shorts off, leaving your green thong on and licking his lips as he notices the wet spot.

“Jesus… this for me?” he says, returning his needy mouth to your hot skin. You’re squirming in his grip, breathless.

“Yes, fuck,” you huff, whimpers leaving your mouth as he kisses his way down your left hip and bites your inner thigh. You moan, the painful prick of his incisors heightening your pleasure.

“You like that, baby?” he asks, peeking up at you from down below. Bashfulness washes over you at the sight of him between your legs, worshipping your body. You nod feverishly, lower lip between your teeth. He growls lowly and kisses down your leg, stopping at your instep and watching your response before retracing his path. He stops over your clothed mound and kisses featherlight, pulling a groan from you. You feel his smile curve against your core, but he doesn’t oblige you—he kisses down your other leg. You tug on his hair, needing his mouth on your most sensitive spot.

“Needy, ain’t she?” he teases you, breathing hot air on your clothed, throbbing pussy. Your back arches and you sigh heavily at the sensation.

“I’ma give you just what y’need, darlin’, just hold on for me,” he soothes you, teeth pulling the waistband of your thong back slowly. He needs help from his hands, though, so he loops his fingers in the waistband and rids them from you. His gaze is boring holes in you, looking at you like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever seen.

“Tongue-tied?” you tease him, watching his eyes roam over your naked body.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” he growls. He shifts downward, lower half on the floor before hooking his arms under your thighs and pulling you toward him. He stares at you as he blows softly on your clit. The chill of the air on your wet core drives you mad, your hips circling involuntarily under his grip. At what seems like a glacial pace, he leans in until his lips touch your clit in a featherlight kiss. Though light, the contact feels like the floor has dropped from underneath you, making you dizzy. His teasing has you so riled up; it won’t take much for you to reach the zenith. His tongue slips out and slowly, almost agonizingly, licks from your entrance to your clit.

“Shit, Joel,” you gasp. He smirks against your core, impressed with himself for learning your cues early on. He continues licking you languidly, sensually, changing his approach based on your moans, curses, and sighs, each twitch of your hips and death grip of his hair and arms, relishing all of you.

“Like hearing y’say my name,” he purrs, “Y’taste so good.” White-hot pleasure keeps shooting up your spine, like fireworks on July fourth. Your stomach feels tight, like you might snap any second.

“I’m close,” you whimper, hips rolling on his face. He hums in approval into your pussy. You reach down and grip his hands before he pulls one away to prod at your entrance. He curves two broad fingers into you, groaning at how warm and tight you are. A strangled cry escapes your throat at the stretch, part of you worried about how his cock will fit. He pumps his fingers quickly, and you snap, your orgasm taking over every fiber of your being. He talks you through it, praising you and trying not to come himself at the sight of you trembling, arched in pleasure.

After a beat, he removes his fingers and slots himself between your legs, head dipping down to kiss you, giving you a taste of yourself on his wiry mustache and smooth lips.

“Taste good, don’t you?” he croons into your mouth, pulling a low moan from your throat. Gripping the fabric of his shirt as you kiss him, you realize he’s still fully clothed. You tug the hem of his shirt up and he sits on his heels to pull it off, revealing a strong, toned torso with a softness that makes you melt. He notices you admiring him.

“S’not as good as it used t’be,” he chuckles, smiling at you as he tosses his shirt to some corner of the room.

“Shut up. You’re perfect,” you breathe, hands roaming his chest and stomach before landing in his waistband, pulling him back to you. He resists, only to unbutton his denim and slide it off his legs, leaving only his boxers. You reach out and grab his hard length through the thin fabric, gasping at the girth of him. Your fingers don’t even reach all the way around. His head tips back, breathy sigh escaping his lungs at your gentle but firm touch.

“Off,” you parrot his command from earlier, fingers tugging at the elastic waistband of his boxers. Eyes locked on yours, he stands and pulls them off his figure, cock springing as it releases. A mischievous grin creeps over his features after seeing your reaction to his manhood.

Fuck. He’s big, probably bigger than most you’ve had. The length is up there, but the girth is what worries you—he’s so thick.

“Don’t worry, darlin’, I’ll take care of you,” he soothes you, settling between your legs. Confusion contorts his face, like he forgot something—until frustration sets in.

“I don’t have protection, d’you have anything?” he asks, stroking a slow path from your inner thigh to your hip, making you squirm.

“No, but I’m good—I’m on birth control, and it’s been forever since I’ve had sex with anyone, so I’m clean,” you reply. You can’t even remember the last time you slept with anyone—months, perhaps.

“Me, too,” he adds, “minus the birth control.” His witty response makes you giggle. You sit up and lean forward to kiss him, stopping just before your lips touch.

“I want you inside me. Now,” you whisper, gaze flicking over his face. His eyes flash obsidian before he crashes his lips against yours and lies you both down. He rubs the head of his cock against your soaked folds, the sensation setting your body on fire. Aroused and impatient, you tip him back until your positions are switched, Joel’s head almost hanging off the edge of the bed. He chuckles at you but beams at your confidence. Perched on his lap, you lean back slightly and grind your hips, guiding your lips over his rock-hard length.

“Need a picture of this,” he says, bewildered at the gorgeous woman grinding on his lap, naked and needy for him. His rough palms caress your hips, stomach, breasts, before landing at your shoulders. He pulls you down for a kiss, the new angle pressing your slit flush against his cock, and you shudder.

“Fuck me,” he rumbles, mouth agape, messy salt and pepper curls dipping down to his brow. You sit up, bracing one palm on his chest and using the other to guide him to your dripping entrance. Making sure to watch him, you slowly sink down on him, the stretch splitting you open almost immediately. Your mouth drops and eyebrows arch, the pain and pleasure slowing your movements.

Joel’s face mirrors yours, your tight, soaked cunt squeezing him deliciously. He grits his teeth and grips your ass so hard you’ll have bruises, urging you down further onto him. You slowly take inch by inch until bottoming out, the sudden press of his tip against your cervix making you yelp.

“Okay, baby?” he asks. Your eyes are squeezed shut, breath coming out in heavy pants and hands clawing at his chest as you adjust to the size and thickness of him. A strand of your hair has fallen in your face, moving with each puff of your breath.

“Yes, j-just need a sec,” you whimper. Finally, your inner muscles acclimate to the intrusion of his cock, and you start to move. Each roll of your hips pulls a filthy moan from Joel, whose calloused hands are guiding you up and down his length. You’re whimpering with each thrust, the tip of his cock sending painfully pleasurable shocks up your spine as it slams into the deepest parts of you.

“Just beautiful,” he groans as he watches you bounce on him. It’s a good thing you’re on top, because he would’ve come by now had he been spearing himself into you. “Not gonna last long. Where d’you want me?” he spits.

“Inside me,” you mewl, and before he can react, you take the opportunity to press your chest against his, sweaty foreheads stuck together as you clap your ass against him as hard as you can. Your second orgasm washes over you suddenly, causing you to tuck your head in the crook of his neck as you cry out. Joel takes over, thrusting up into you a few times before grunting your name as he spills into you. Both of your pants and whimpers fill the room as you come down from your high. You’re still on top of him, arms wrapped around his neck, pussy wrapped around his cock still as he softens. He rolls you over and pins your arms above your head before dipping his lips down to meet yours in a messy postcoital kiss. You moan into the kiss, and his cock twitches at the sound inside you—he’s not quite hard, but enough to still stretch you out.

“Wanna do it like this next time,” you pant, cupping his cheek. He turns to kiss your palm and moves down to your wrist before latching his lips onto the slope of your shoulder.

“I’d like that, baby,” he purrs into your sweaty skin, “And I like that there’s gonna be a next time.” He rests against you for a moment before slipping out of you with a grunt and standing to find your bathroom. He returns after a minute with a towel, sitting next to you on the bed and wiping his spend from you.

A pang of disappointment washes over you suddenly, not wanting him to leave. One-night stands really aren’t your thing—you don’t want him to get the idea that this is a frequent habit of yours.

You speak his name softly, quietly. He slides back into bed, propping himself on one elbow and giving you his full attention. He tucks some stray hair behind your ear, your eyes closing at the tenderness of his touch.

“Hmm?” he hums, thumb tracing your eyebrow, forehead, temple, whatever part of your face is closest. You open your eyes and see warm, affectionate amber staring back at you. His eyes are so beautiful, so full of emotion, you find yourself unable to talk for a second. He quirks one eyebrow at you, lips sliding into his cheek as he waits for your response.

“D’you wanna stay?” you ask, hesitant. You really don’t know him, or if this is something he likes to do often, or if it was a spur of the moment decision made during your moment of passion at the bar. He leans down and kisses your forehead before pressing a slow kiss to your lips. Pulling back ever so slightly, his breath fans on your face and gaze flicks between each of your eyes before he opens his mouth to reply.

“Yes, I’d love to,” he says. You can’t help the grin that pulls at your cheeks. He twists the lamp, darkness spilling into the room, and tucks you into his chest before pulling the covers over both of you.

“Goodnight, darlin’,” he whispers into your hair, and before you can reply, you’re sound asleep.

Morning rolls around, and you find yourself pressed against Joel’s warm back, arms wrapped around his torso and moving up and down with his expanding ribcage. He’s still sleeping, or you think—he woke up not too long ago with you curled into his chest, torn between needing to use the bathroom, and not wanting to let go of you. You looked so serene, so beautiful as the sunrise painted your features. When he came back and tucked himself under the covers, you immediately latched yourself onto him, arms wound tightly around his belly.

Now, you find yourself in the same predicament, needing to use the bathroom but not wanting to disturb him. You slowly unfurl yourself from his broad back, stand from the bed and tiptoe to the bathroom connected to your room.

Joel had opened his eyes once he felt you rise from the bed and watched your naked figure travel across the room, the sight stirring his already half-hard cock. Fuck, you were gorgeous, and he wanted desperately to see your body trembling with pleasure again, the memory of your face twisted in euphoria sewn into his brain. When he heard the bathroom door open, he snapped his eyes shut again, wanting you to think he was asleep.

You, on the other hand, didn’t want to wake him and had a primal urge for some fresh coffee. You search the room for your robe, startling when two warm hands grasp your waist and pull you onto the bed. Joel props himself up against your headboard, legs spread as he pulls you into the open space between them. His strong arms loop around your stomach, pulling you tight until your back is flush with his chest. He tucks his face into your neck, pressing gentle kisses behind and beneath your ear, down the column of your neck.

“Where d’you think you’re goin’?” he croons, Southern voice raspy with sleep, igniting something inside you. You moan as his lips and teeth mark spots on the map of your skin.

“Coffee, I swear,” you groan, covering his arms with yours and squirming as his mouth continues adorning you.

“Mm. Not done with you yet,” he murmurs, unwrapping one hand from your stomach to palm your breasts. You arch into him, head tipping back on his shoulder. He growls.

“Feel good, sweetheart?” he presses, rolling one nipple between rough fingertips before moving to the other. You gasp sharply and nod against his shoulder, hips gyrating and ass rubbing against his hard length. He inhales deeply, the scent of your hair invading his space and heightening his arousal for you.

His palm dips lower, spanning your soft stomach before reaching your inner thigh, goosebumps erupting in its path. Lightly, he scratches at your skin there, loving how pliant your body is underneath his touch. He needs to see your face.

“Look at me,” he orders softly, and you turn your head to see him. God, he looks fucking good. His hair is fucked up from slumber, eyes wanton and full of sleepy desire. There are hints of intrigue and mischief sketched on his face.

Then, he kisses you, teeth tugging on your lower lip. It’s hot, the way he needs you in this moment, the way his tongue reaches for yours, the way his grip tightens around you. His hand dips further south, fingers feeling firsthand how much you want him. He moans at it, the wetness trickling from you.

“Joel,” you whine, his calculated touches teasing you. He swirls his fingers around your bud, almost excruciatingly slow.

“You want me this much?” he breathes into your mouth. Your hips are still rolling, ass feeling how much he wants you.

“Yes—please. Need you,” you moan softly, eyes opening to see him. He looks down, watching and moaning at how your slick coats his fingers. He prods his middle finger at your entrance, inserting it lazily into your tight heat with a groan. You gasp at the soreness of his cock from last night and at the stretch—his finger is thick, close to the size of two of your digits.

“Baby—need to stretch you out. So tight.” He pulls his middle finger out and adds his ring finger to the mix. He curls them once they’re fully sheathed inside you, pads stroking your soft walls. He pumps them in and out of you slowly, yet with enough pressure to send you reeling. The pleasure builds inside you, knotting tightly in your belly. You moan as he continues to unravel you, hips circling around his hand, his teeth sinking into your shoulder.

“Come for me, sweet girl,” he coaxes you, mouth moving to graze your earlobe. He holds it there, between his teeth, pulling it as you come apart on his fingers.

Your orgasm rolls through you slowly, vision spotting as the knot untethers inside your stomach. Joel fucks you through it and praises you, spurring you on more. It’s new for you, someone talking you through your orgasm, and something you didn’t realize you needed.

“Good girl, just like that—did so good for me, baby,” he soothes you, removing his soaked fingers from you. He takes the middle one into your mouth, brushing your tongue, and you suck lightly, moaning at the taste of yourself. His cock jumps.

“Need to taste you again,” he hums, placing his ring finger in his mouth. You watch him relish the taste of you, eyebrows arching and a deep groan escaping his throat.

“Can I fuck you now, baby?” he asks, syllables like chords of a sweet cello. You nod, tugging the back of his head down for a passionate kiss. He maneuvers both of you until you’re underneath him and he’s hovering over the cradle of your hips.

“Gonna go slow,” he says, palms cradling your face.

“Want you to fuck me however you like, Joel,” you whisper, searching his eyes. Brown irises flecked with gold, desire-filled pupils threatening to swallow them. He sits up, tugging your thighs toward him and tucks your knees at his sides. He grips himself and breaks eye contact to watch where your bodies are about to join. He looks up at you as he slips the head of his cock inside your warm entrance, jaw dropping as your walls swallow him.

Carefully, he feeds you inch by inch, eyes never leaving yours until he’s at the hilt. He commits to memory the morphing of your facial expressions as he fills you up—wide eyes, mouth dropping slowly, head tilting back and eyes snapping shut once he reaches the end of you. Only then does he look down to see where he has vanished inside you, moaning at the way your pussy stretches around him as he pulls out slowly.

“You feel so good,” you whine, fingernails lightly scratching his chest and stomach. His head tips back as he sets a pace, your muscles squeezing him and coating him in warm slick.

“Best I ever had—fuck,” he curses, fingertips bruising your hipbones. He pulls you up so your hips are propped up on his lap, leaving space between your back and the bed. You arch, head lolled back and hanging off the edge of the bed.

“Beautiful,” he moans, reaching a palm down to lightly squeeze the column of your throat as he continues pounding into you.

Blood rushes to your head, heightening the pleasure of each thrust. Your body is tingling, almost levitating.

With no notice, your second orgasm zips through you like a gasoline fire, flames scorching your neurons. Joel follows suit, lifting you into his lap, arms wrapped around your torso as he cries into your chest. You tug his curls, tipping his head back in a kiss as he finishes emptying inside you.

You pull back and run your fingers through his hair, stopping to cradle his face in your hands. He beams at you.

“Can I make coffee now?” you tease him, pressing a light kiss to his nose. He laughs warmly, squeezing you tightly and picking you up as he stands from the bed.

“I think that’s acceptable,” he replies, squeezing your ass before letting you stand on your own legs.

“So… when can I see you again?” Joel asks as he puts his shoes on. You’d typed your number into his phone per his request just moments ago and sent yourself a text with his name.

“Are you saying… you want to do this again?” you say, winking at him and dropping your mouth open in mock surprise. He rolls his eyes, standing to pull you into a hug.

“Yes, but not just sex. Unless, uh, that ain’t your thing,” he says, hesitation flashing over his features. You shake your head.

“What we just did isn’t usually my thing. I’d love a date. And more sex if that’s okay.” He snorts.

“It’s more than okay. You showing up to the baseball game tomorrow evening?” he asks, absentmindedly stroking the skin in front of your ear. You nod.

“Got a thing for the hot coach. Need to make sure I have my best jean shorts on.” He snorts again, raising an eyebrow at the prospect of seeing you with some short shorts on.

“How about I take you out later this week, then?” You swipe your eyes around the top of the room, lips sliding into your cheek as you try and remember your schedule.

“Friday? I have a busy week at work. Late nights, probably,” you offer. He nods with a big grin.

“It’s a date.”

The next day arrived in blistering fashion. Not a single cloud graced the blue skies, nor the tiniest gust of summer wind. By 5:00 PM, it was still in the lower 90s. You packed a large cooler full of water bottles, Gatorade, various other liquids stashed in your fridge, and snacks for Noah’s baseball game. Excited to see Joel again, you made sure to wear your best jean shorts and threw on a cropped tank top.

You pull up to the baseball field, searching the parked cars for Meredith’s SUV and Joel’s silver truck. You find both, parked at opposite ends of the lot. Your stomach drops slightly when you see his truck. He’s here, obviously—he is one of the coaches. Meredith waits in her SUV for you, hopping out when she sees you strolling up, big cooler in tow.

“Any booze in that?” she winks at you. You nod.

“I had some stray shooters in the fridge. All yours.”

“I believe you have something to tell me, yeah?” she says as both of you walk up to the entrance of the baseball complex. You look over to the field and see Noah’s team warming up in their familiar navy and red uniforms.

Joel is in the grass, hitting pop flies at the outfielders. His broad back is turned to you, the familiar shape sending a pang of anticipation up your spine. The flexing and jumping of his muscles and tendons is getting you hot. Meredith nudges you.

“Hey, I’m talkin’ to you here! Stop reminiscing,” she scolds you.

“I kinda have to if you want my account of the story, yeah?” you add, mocking her tone playfully. She guffaws.

“Spill. The man was obsessing over you since he saw you at the game.”

“Let’s just say he’s very good at what he does. And he’s a gentleman. He’s taking me out later this week,” you gush, cheeks burning at your recollection of yesterday’s events.

“Knew it. Could tell by the way he walks and looks at you. Mans is whipped. My guy on the other hand? Couldn’t even get it up. Passed out before anything meaningful could happen,” she seethes, eyes rolling.

“All old men are not created equal, Mer,” you joke, jostling her with your elbow.

As you two find home in the bleachers, you see Miss Blonde Ambition eyeing you from the concession stand. She looks pissed off, Juvéderm-filled lips contorted in a scowl and lifeless eyes swiping up and down your frame as she sloshes her Stanley cup around aggressively. Meredith notices, too.

“Guess she’s not too happy her usual antics didn’t work,” she gripes. You try not to give too much attention to the woman.

“What’s her name? I don’t even think Joel knows it,” you ask, noticing her return to the bleachers from your peripheral.

“Cassie. Divorced. Her kid is one of Noah’s closest friends on the team, unfortunately. I think he spends most nights with his dad.”

“Can’t imagine why.” Meredith chuckles at your jab.

A cloud of strong, overly floral perfume invades your nostrils, and you turn to see Cassie, manicured hands planted on her hips and face pinched in irritation.

“Hey, Cass,” Meredith says coolly, not looking in her direction.

“Is this your sister?” Cassie spits. Her voice is shrill, accent almost Valley girl. It would make a lot of sense if she was from Southern California. Meredith, having none of this hostility, whips her head at Cassie.

“It is. You got a problem? Because this is not the time nor the place,” she says, eyes narrowing briefly at Cassie.

“Just wanted her to know that she shouldn’t get too excited about her little escapade with Joel. He does that with every young thing that sits on these bleachers,” she boils, face and neck turning red. Ouch. Joel never seemed the type, but then again, you don’t know him. She could be telling the truth.

“Except you, yeah?” Meredith shoots back, unfazed by Cassie’s low blow. You, on the other hand, don’t miss how your stomach sinks and throat dries up at her words. Cassie’s mouth drops open. She cocks her hips to one side and lifts a finger at both of you.

“Oh, don’t worry, I’ve been there, done that. Nothing to ride home about. Enjoy my sloppy seconds,” she hisses. Meredith stands up, hackles raised and blocking you from Cassie’s view.

“S’at why you were all pissed off he didn’t want you last night? ‘Cause it’s ‘nothing to ride home about’?” Meredith fires, neck rolling. Anger boils in your belly, though you find it best if you don’t speak—Meredith has always been the verbal fighter, you the physical one. It’s not a road you plan on traveling any time soon.

Other parents in the bleachers are observing the confrontation, along with some players in the dugout, little claws gripping the chain link fence and wide eyes glued to the scene. You’re glad you have sunglasses on. You notice Joel turn his attention to you, shoulders drooping at what he sees. Embarrassed, you look down at your feet as Cassie continues her tirade.

“Tell your slutty little sister he’ll find a new spectator to fuck very soon—and I think it’s best if our sons don’t hang out anymore!” she screeches. It’s silent at the ball field—both teams have stopped their warmups to tune into the drama. A pin could drop here, and everyone would hear it.

Meredith hops off the bleachers and gets close to Cassie’s face. She points in her face.

“Slutty? That’s rich, coming from the lady who cheated on her husband with half the single dads at the last State Tournament!” Cassie’s mouth drops open in shock, taking a few steps back from Meredith. Some gasps ring out in the bleachers. Tommy walks over, stepping between the two sparring women and putting his hands up.

“That’s enough!” he booms. Meredith, nostrils flared and fists clenched, points a finger at him.

“Tom, you know damn well what she’s trying to do here. I’m not about to let it happen. She chose to do this in front of everyone to embarrass my sister. Ain’t my problem what comes out.” He pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes, shaking his head.

“I get it, Mer. Just didn’t need the kids hearing this stuff.”

Nausea squeezes your stomach and takes hold of your throat. You stand and grab your purse. Meredith turns to you, worried.

“Y’alright?” You shake your head.

“Need t’go sit in my car for a bit,” you reply, voice shaky. You turn and walk to your car, paying no attention to wandering eyes. Joel sees you ambling to the parking lot and sets his bat down, raking a hand through his stubble as he walks toward the dugout and out to the bleachers. He’d heard the entire conversation and knew you were probably hurting from Cassie’s remarks.

“I’ll talk to her, Joel,” Meredith says, stepping in between him and you, though you’re far away by now. He shakes his head.

“She needs to hear it from me. None of that shit is true,” he huffs, frown lines etched into his forehead. He jogs frantically to your car.

Hunched over your steering wheel, a knock at your window interrupts you. You jump and look up to see Joel. He looks worried. Shoulders sagging, you unlock the doors and tilt your head as you wait for him to get in. The door opens and he reaches for your hand. You snap it back involuntarily.

“I just wanna be alone right now, Joel,” you lament.

“Just let me explain, alright? I heard everythin’ she said to you,” he says, voice calm. You refuse to look at him, knowing that if you do, you won’t be able to stand firm.

“Look at me, darlin’,” he pleads, voice quiet. You sigh in defeat and turn to look at him. His amber eyes are filled with sadness and frustration.

“None of that shit she said is true. I’ve never slept with anyone that comes to these games, save for you and my ex-wife. Ain’t she ain’t been to a game in many years. Swear,” he says, voice tight, speech rushed.

You look back and forth between his eyes. Why would he lie to you? What could he possibly gain from fucking you—after all, he is a coach, and it might make him look bad to the parents and players. If anything, it was a risk on his part.

“I believe you, Joel. It just hurt,” you finally speak. He reaches for you again, hesitant from your previous rejection. You give him your hand and he kisses the back of it, eyes locked on your face.

“M’sorry. I knew she wasn’t gonna let it go easy. Promise ya, ya got nothin’ to worry about. I—I really like you,” he says, pained. You lean over the center console and kiss him, almost feeling his relief pouring into you.

“I really like you too… old man,” you tease. He roars in laughter.

“Y’gonna pay for that one, darlin’,” he says, half-grinning at you. He kisses you again before pulling back and checking his watch.

“Game’s gonna start soon, I gotta get goin’. I’ll see you later, alright?” You nod, smiling weakly at him. He gives you a quick peck before exiting the passenger side and trotting back to the field.

Noah’s team played an excellent game, which lifted the moods of all the parents and coaches. Cassie’s ex-husband, Byron, showed up and convinced her to leave, which was a relief for everyone. He apologized to you and Meredith for her behavior. Apparently, he already knew about her cheating escapade before they divorced.

Meredith, feeling badly for you, decided to splurge on concession stand snacks and got you a giant Bavarian pretzel and cotton candy, and supplied hot dogs to all the parents. You had fun, too—apprehension quickly turned to relief as parents took turns sympathizing with you and making you feel welcome. This was not Cassie’s first run-in with another woman in the bleachers, you found out—she made this sort of thing a habit.

Noah hit his first home run of the season, eliciting cheers and whoops from the stands. Joel, who had been working with him on his hitting mechanics, gave him a big hug after he returned to the dugout. The team finished 10-3, a great turnaround from yesterday’s loss.

The parents were eager to return to the bar and close it down again. You opted not to, feeling tired and needing a hot bath from the sticky summer night. You and Meredith chatted with Byron for a long time in the parking lot as families filtered out, discussing how to best keep Cassie away from the boys. They had a strong friendship, and neither Meredith nor Byron wanted anything to affect it. Byron shared that Cassie didn’t even have custody of their son—her cheating and drinking during their marriage put a bad taste in Byron’s mouth, and apparently the judge’s—he was awarded full custody.

After saying goodbyes, you were eager to get home, almost forgetting the most important goodbye. You scan the parking lot and see a familiar handsome shape leaning against the bed of his silver truck, eyeing you as you saunter over to him.

“Good game, Coach Miller,” you say slyly, sticking your hand out for him to shake. He grasps it, glancing down with one eyebrow cocked, before pulling you into his chest.

“Lotta motivation coming from the stands tonight,” he croons, wrapping his hands around your waist.

“For you or the boys?” He chuckles.

“Take your pick.” You shake your head and smile, watching the sun drop the last of its shape underneath the horizon. The sky is a beautiful cotton candy color, not unlike the treat Meredith bought for you earlier tonight. You two stand there for a moment, the only sounds being the quiet buzzing of the cicadas and crunch of cars leaving the gravel parking lot.

“Headin’ to the bar?” Joel asks you, holding your chin with his forefinger and thumb. You shake your head.

“Need a hot bath and some relaxation. You?” He smirks, thinking of your naked body undressing and stepping into a bubbly tub.

“Nah. Need the same.” Your lips twitch as you study his face, painted with a little mischief and a little fatigue.

“Want to join me?” you offer, watching a slow grin creep on his face.

“Hmm, need t’think about that one,” he says, eyes flicking over your face.

“What’s there to think about? You, me, naked in a tub. What could possibly go wrong?” You’re flirting now.

“That’s exactly what I’m thinkin’ ‘bout, darlin’, not whether I wanna go,” he says, pulling a goofy laugh from you.

“Meet you over there, then,” you say, turning to leave. He holds onto one of your fingers, preventing you from walking to your car.

“Y’want somethin’ to eat first?” he says, rubbing the skin of your finger.

“Sure. Something on the way?”

“I’m thinkin’ McDonalds. Text me what you want, and I’ll bring it over.”

“It’s a date.”

Not too long thereafter, you and Joel are sitting in your bathtub, backs at opposite ends. He’s tracing shapes on the skin of your knee, asking you every question that pops into his head.

“Shoe size?”

“Eleven. I have big ass feet,” you say, sticking a foot out of the water. He chuckles.

“D’ya want kids someday?”

“Nope. Noah is good enough for me. Never really wanted to be a mom. Would you have another?” He shakes his head.

“I’m too old to be a new father again. S’a lotta work. I had a good run with Sarah,” he says quietly, hand tiptoeing further up your leg.

He stares into your eyes, slicking his wet curls back from his forehead with his free hand.

“Why are you single?” His gaze bores into your face. You avoid it, focusing on mussing up some bubbles floating by your knee. You shrug.

“Haven’t had time, or the energy,” you finally say after a beat. “Haven’t found anyone worth giving either of those things to,” you add, tilting your head and meeting his gaze. He half-smiles at you.

“Yeah, me neither. ‘Til now,” he says, deep voice echoing throughout your bathroom.

“Oh yeah? Cassie, right?” you tease, and he snorts.

“Y’got me there. Alright, last question,” he says, hand stopping at the seam of your thigh. You tighten your muscles a bit, nervous.

“Shoot, Coach,” you say, flicking a bubble at him.

“Can I touch you, baby?” your eyes widen briefly, aligned with the quickening of your pulse. You’ve been wet since he ran the bath water for you and undressed you, fingertips gently tracing your skin as he removed your damp clothing.

“Yes,” you breathe. His finger grazes your mound, the sharp stubble like sandpaper against his skin. He grips your knees and pulls you into his lap. You look down at him, mesmerized by his face and the way he stares at you.

“One more question,” he says, warm, pruny hands traversing your back, warm water trickling from his fingertips to your skin. You thread your fingers through his wet tendrils, leaning your lips close to his, but not touching.

“I’ll allow it,” you whisper.

“Can I kiss you?” You nod, closing the gap between your mouths with ease. His lips are gentle against yours, somewhat chapped from the dry heat of the summer day and salty from sweat. He tastes like salt and mint, which he must’ve snuck into his mouth after you ate earlier.

The kiss deepens, wet sounds of your mouths and the splashing of water now echoing in the bathroom. He’s rock hard against you, cock only a few inches from your needy hole. He pulls back and stares at you.

“Alright, promise this is the last question,” he coos, rubbing his nose against your jaw and then your neck as you tip your head back to give him access. The stubble of his mustache and chin scratch at your skin.

“Fine. Last one,” you agree.

“Can I fuck you?” You nod.

And he does.

Some months and many bubble baths later, Joel wormed his way into your heart. And your apartment. He’s got a baseball cap or two hanging on your mantle, throws his keys in the dish on the kitchen counter when he walks in.

You spend most nights together during the week, either at his cozy home or your apartment.

He calls you his, you call him yours.

He fills your car up with gas when you’re out and about and your fuel light comes on, holds your hand when you walk into a restaurant, tells you how beautiful you are at least a few times a week—and not just when his cock is sheathed inside you.

He kisses you each morning before he leaves for work. Shares his food with you, even when he’s starving. Washes you in the shower and puts lotion on the spots you can’t reach after he dries you off.

Introduces you to his family, and shows you pictures of his late daughter.

Goes to the movies with you and doesn’t complain that you talk during the. Entire. Movie.

Lets you wear his ratty, baggy tees around the house, and even asks you to keep them on sometimes when he makes love to you.

Makes fun of how you use a hammer and that you can’t name the 31 different types of wrenches but corrects you each time with a warm smile.

Plays catch with you before the boys show up for warmups and lets you set up the dugout, though he’ll redo it later on anyway.

And when he finally tells you how much he loves you, you’re not shocked. Warmth ebbs inside you, like it does most days with him. You knew it all along, even if he never had the courage to say it—it was evident with each kiss, touch, and thrust, each bag of food he brought for you, each time he held the door open for you, each time he guided you somewhere with his strong hand on the small of your back.

You oftentimes wonder if he is your soulmate, though you already know the answer.

He makes lemonade with each lemon you give him, without complaint or judgment. And that’s all you can ask for.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal smut

[heartfullofleeches]

[+18]

V and fuckboy playboy/wingman male Darling-

Hear me out-

Darling is the son of some other loaded family that has close ties with V's. The two cross paths at a gathering and their parents urge them to make friends. Darling plays video games. V plays video games. They exchange numbers with some persuasion from their folks and set up a time to play something together although begrudgingly on V's end. V ends up having a better time than he expected, but right before he really starts to enjoy his time with Darling - he tells V he has to head out.

"Nice meeting you, dude. We gotta do this again. I got a girl coming over and I gotta bounce."

And just like that V's hopes are crushed. He's still learning about his attraction towards guys, but - Darling was sorta cute....

"oh....so you have a girlfriend."

Darling laughs.

"Nah, man. Haven't found the right girl...or guy to tie me down yet, plus I'm just enjoying the single life for now.... I can send pics after we're done if you want. She's totally chill and likes when I show her off."

Pictures?.... V agrees - thinking not much of it. He goes back to playing and eventually it slips from his mind. Hours later he receives photos of what looks to be a topless girl in a dimly lit room. She smiles big at the camera - eyes and upper face blocked from sight by the shaft of the bastard with her cheek pressed to his inner thigh. He still had on the same pair of sweats V had seen him in earlier that day. He only met this guy not even twenty-four hours ago and now he's seen his dick. Even worse - there's a pretty girl with her lipstick and spit all over it in the same picture. V's pissed - yet the image magically appears in one of his porn holders later on."

"what the hell...."

"My bad! I thought you might like it. You don't seem like a guy who gets a lot of action... If you ever want to meet someone, just give me a call. I know a lot of people who'd be interested in a rich brat like you."

This guy.... he acts like he's any different. V thinks Darling is a freak to put things lightly, but its not like he has other people to hang out with. As the two hang out V sees that Darling isn't as bad as he first seemed. He's still a horny, inconsiderate prick most days - but he's still the best thing V has to a friend and cares for V in his own way..... Still sends V dick pics he sweats were for someone els.

Darling is genuinely surprised that V has never been with someone. Sure, he doesn't seem like he gets that much attention, but he was sure V had at least kissed someone once. The topic comes up when Darling tries for the hundredth time to hook with up with one of his flings. He's always sending V evidence of the nights he spent with strangers. Oddly enough - V only ever complains about the videos and photos when they don't have darling in them as well.

"Damn.... I know you're a pain in the ass sometimes, but you're cute I thought somebody would've looked past that.....

V hates with Darling says shit like that. He's not used to people flirting with him and... and it gives him false hope. "Shut up....

"So, think she's cute? I can give her your number~"

"I don't want it."

This sucks.... By now, V's fully aware of his crush on Darling - and he fucking hates the bastard for what he's doing to him. If Darling is so concerned about him seeing people why doesn't he just take V out instead. He jerks off to everything Darling sends him wondering when he'll get his turn. V has some solace in the fact Darling rare sees any of his partners twice. V has been with him and always will be with him longer than any of them have. He just has to be patient.....and ruin any chances Darling has of being with anyone else.

V nearly jumps out of his skin reading one of Darling's numerous drunken texts.

"Hey, man. Totally speaking out my ass here, but would you ever be down to have a threesome sometime ;)"

#V my oc #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere insert #yandere oc #yandere blurb #male yandere #yandere drabble #yandere smut #male reader

[pokegalla]

Requested by @tryslogic

Ngl never thought of this but it’s gonna either be really funny or really sweet. There is no in between-

Killer and Lust with a crazy rich S/o who loves spoiling them

Lust:

* Oh this poor sweetheart was just expecting you to ask for “service” since you kept flirting with him everytime you visited Grillby’s. He found it charming though as you were always making him laugh too. It surprised him really when instead of that, you actually asked him out instead! Especially when he learned you were rich. Like are you sure you want me??? You could literally have anyone! But it just made him feel extra loved that you genuinely liked him for him. He didn’t really care about your money✨

* He’s actually very humble when it comes to gift receiving. Because he’s not used to such nice and thoughtful gifts! So whether it’s a simple rose to a HUGE teddy bear to even the finest wardrobe? He’s a blushing mess, always left surprised and still asking if it’s really ok. (Please reassure him!)

* Despite you spoiling him, he sure as hell is spoiling you too. You definitely have received gifts over time. His gifts weren’t as expensive…..but the thing is, the value of it is something money can’t buy✨ he’s made custom clothes just for you, stitched by HIS hands. Adorable picture books of you, him, even family and friends! Oh and the cuddles, smooches, and fun dates?!

* He’s a romantic guy and he’ll make sure to bring a smile to your face and give you the love you deserve

Mini story time:

“Huh? You have another surprise for me? Goodness you spoil me too much love….” Lust giggles.

You laugh too, “Well I can’t help it. Your smile and blush makes it worth it everytime.”

Lust playfully nudges you, “Oh stop it you!”

You laugh and take his hand in your own. You knew this surprise was probably the biggest you’ve ever given him. But it was an investment that you won’t regret. And you knew Lust would make you proud. So you walk him up to an old building. It looked refurbished and cleaned up already. You open the door with the key.

He looked around in wonder, “Wow…..what place is this?”

“Your new boutique,” You said casually. Lust looked at you in shock. You knew he loved making clothes…..”You have talent Lust. Everyone deserves to know you have something special…..and I’m willing to help show that.”

He actually tears up from this….this was….too sweet. He’s NEVER had such kindness in his life before. You made him feel…..like he actually had value. He hugged you and smiled with purple tears coming down.

“Thank you”

Killer:

* Ah here we go with this lil shet. Now with him, y’all probably got together randomly. He probably saw you on his day off and threw you a pick up line for funsies. Next thing you know, you both exchange numbers and become true love birds. Funniest part? It took him AWHILE to learn you were even rich- probably like a few weeks or a month. He thought it was cool and didn’t really think much of it.

* Now what shocked him was you spoiling him- he literally joked about wanting a PS5. Which he did want but he ain’t got no money- next day? Boom. You pop up with a whole ass PS5 with games he might like. His initial reaction: “Heh nice prank babe”. Oh- oh you weren’t? HOLY SHIT YOU ACTUALLY GOT HIM-?! The way he excitedly jumped up like a happy puppy, you knew you had to spoil him more-

* He absolutely shows you off to his team. Mostly out of a joke but also to be an absolute dick- like just smirking at his teammates, hell even his BOSS, just having an arm around your shoulder to say “My bae spoils and loves me soooooo much✨” Everyone wishes to beat your bonefriend’s ass- not you though. Because honestly you probably spoil them too. So you get a pass. And your bonefriend looking like he done got betrayed-

* He’s a silly little gremlin and honestly he does feel bad that he can’t spoil you more. So he’ll make sure to make you laugh and have fun no matter what.

Mini story time:

Ah the date went well as usual. A fancy dinner, a stop at an ice cream shop, and a walk through the park together under the moonlight. And you couldn’t stop laughing. Killer had been making you laugh the entire night, talking about his latest shenanigans with his group.

“And then after Dust wiped off the pie cream, he chased us ALL around the castle until Nightmare nabbed us and put us in our rooms! Dadmare moment✨,” He said with a chuckle.

“PFFFFT- Dadmare?!” You laughed again, “Killer you’re so cute….but god you’re chaotic-“

Killer takes your hand then kisses it, winking at you, “A chaotic cutie that you love so much~”

You blush but smile, “Yeah…..someone I will always cherish.” You swore for a moment, his eye lights popped up and his target like soul shifted into a heart for a moment.

“………heh. You’re too sweet babe…..,” He says with a nervous chuckle. You were surprised….but you couldn’t resist spoiling him one more time: with a kiss on the cheek. His skull flared with a beautiful shade of red. You giggle as he hid his face and tried acting cool about it. Ah……

You truly love this skellie.

#my writing #undertale au #funny #fluff #romance #right in the feels #sans au x reader #undertale au x reader #undertale au headcanons #lust sans #killer sans #killer sans x reader #lust sans x reader #mini oneshot #bad sanses mentioned

[shadowbriar]

George Weasley - Loved and Lost You

Pairing : (F/M) || George Weasley x Gryffindor!Reader Word Count : 4.8k  Warning : Mention of food. One foul language. Synopsis : Fake dating gone wrong when she realises that her silly idea to help the Hufflepuff boy costs her her bestfriend. Notes : I had no idea how to end this, definitely not my best ending to date but I hope you can still enjoy it. If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕

“What would I do without you, truly?”

She shrugs, passing the redhead his quidditch robe, “I don’t know, actually. Probably died a long time ago.”

The boy grins, receiving the said item thankfully.

The sun was beaming, steady wind blowing that lovely morning as the Gryffindors began to crowd the quidditch field. It was another typical practice but for as long as she could remember, she has always been a constant audience of the activity. She wasn’t sure if it was purely caused by her admiration of the said sport or was there any other hidden meaning she tries so hard to bury inside her chest, but if Voldemort himself is not outside of her doorstep and threatening her with the cruciatus curse, best believe she would come and cheer for her favourite Wealeys.

Yes, Weasleys.

Though it was obvious for everyone else that she has always been more fond of one of the twins, she would always argue that they both are her best friends and that she loves them equally. Sure she has been more open with one of them, spent more time on his bed and shared more of her heartfelt stories with him, but that doesn’t mean that she has any special feelings for him. They simply connect better, like the way honey fits best with tea instead of sugar.

“Say, do you have any plans after this?” He asked, putting on his robe in the process “I was wondering if you’d like to do that Charms essay together?”

“By together you mean by copying mine?”

He grins sheepishly, “You know me best.”

“Yes, I’ve heard that before.” She says as she rolls her eyes “Meet you here after?”

“Sound.”

He ruffled her hair, the very dear habit he does whenever they’re going to part ways, before he jogs lightly to the field.

She finds herself walking to the bleacher, finding a spot next to Hermione who was trying to bite down her smile, “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Oh, don’t ‘nothing’ me, Hermione. I know something’s running wild in your precious witty brain.”

“It’s just that,” The younger Gryffindor vents, turning to her “You and George look so cute together. Whatever is stopping you two from dating? Everyone could see the heart eyes you’ve been exchanging with each other.”

She rolls her eyes, “There’s no heart eyes between us. Don’t make up words, Hermione, you know how rumours go wild in this school.”

“Oh, but there totally is!” She argues, feeling rather curbed over her emotions “George has never looked at anyone the way he looks at you and vice versa. You both are neck deep in love with each other yet refuse to acknowledge it. Merlin, you both are denying it for no reason, really!”

She turns her head to watch the game, not entertaining the younger girl any longer.

Hermione wasn’t the first to question their friendship. In fact she’s one of the least vocal about it, compared to Ginny and Harry would blurt out the questions right in front of the younger twin, making the atmosphere to be awkward for the next 2 minutes to come. It would be a lie if she never pondered about the underlying truth beneath the curious accusations their friends made, but being best friends with the Twins was all she’s known for since she first stepped in Hogwarts. She’s been the honorary third twin, so Fred called, and their close relationship has always been something of her identity. There really isn’t anything more than that.

They were all just making things up, she was sure. There’s no heart eyes, no soft gazes and George definitely doesn’t like her that way. If he does, she would’ve known about it because who else could read him like an open book? Right?

—-

Her attempt on keeping her giggles in was evidently failing as George continued to nudge her under the table. Troubles in Potion is always the worst and she wouldn’t want to get any of them detention from Snivellus, but what exactly can you expect from sitting next to one of the Twins? It would be a cold day in hell if they don’t try to tickle or at the very least make silly comments about the Professor throughout the lesson.

And as if on cue, George was pulled up from his seat abruptly, arm being yanked away by the foul Professor, “Switch your seat with Diggory. Now.”

The joy on both their faces turn into horror in the blink of an eye. George nods silently, packing his belongings. She shot an apologetic smile at him, watching him as he shuffled away from their table. Diggory, who looks surprised that his name was being called, is now walking to their table, his unfinished essays disorganised in his hands.

“Hi.”

She smiles, nodding, “Hello, Diggory.”

She glances at George, making sure that the boy wasn’t much affected by Snape’s wrest, though she knew that it would require much more than the Professor’s assault to frighten the boy. Hell, she wasn’t even sure there would ever be anything George Weasley is afraid of. That boy has always been confident and undaunted no matter how severe the circumstances he was in. Yet she still couldn’t stop herself from checking in on him. It has become an unconscious habit she picked up over the years.

George wiggles his eyebrows at her, showing his unphased state as he takes a seat. She rolled her eyes. Of course he’s still being his jesterself.

She turns her head back to her paper, only to notice Diggory’s eyes glued to a few tables in front of them. She follows his direction, raising her brows as she realises that he was watching Patricia Stimpson intently. She looks back at Diggory who still hasn’t blinked from the last she saw him.

“Is there something on Stimpson’s face that I didn’t notice?” She asks aloud, making the boy snap out of his thought “Is it only noticeable from your side of the table?”

“No, there’s nothing on her face.” He answers, cheeks turning rosy “I was just spacing out.”

She squints her eyes, noting the nervous shift of his gesture, “Are my eyes deceiving me or are you blushing right now, Diggory.”

“Shut up.”

“Oh, Merlin!” She exclaims quietly, grinning at the secret she’s just learned “You fancy Stimpson, don’t you!”

“I said, shut up.”

She nudges the boy, teasing the poor Hufflepuff who’s now trying to bury his head under his arm, hiding his face that is as red as a tomato. In no time the two strangers become close. Funny how one fortuitous action could bring the two close in no time. It was as if they’ve been friends for years.

And the sight wasn’t left unnoticed by a pair of jealous eyes.

George chews on his lower lip with anxiety. He’s never seen her grow close with someone as fast as this, not even with Lee who has been their fourth wheel for years. What is it about Diggory that seems to be such a magnet for girls? Was it his pretty face? His humour perhaps? Surely he couldn’t have better jokes than the prankster of the castle.

The redhead’s bubble of thought burst as a crumpled paper hit his head. He turned to the direction where it came, seeing his twin who’s gesturing him to open it. With a huff, he opens the parchment paper and his frown grows even more sour.

‘Losers Weepers.’

—-

She throws her head to the back as she laughs her heart out, giving George light punches to the arms. The Gryffindor table was full of familiar faces. It has been a while since the whole squad was present. With the different year they’re in, different classes they’re taking, and evidently different teenage troubles they’re facing, spending breakfast together seems like an impossible task to do. Now that everyone’s present, she couldn’t find a reason to leave the table early.

But one.

“Hey, you.” A voice calls, greeting her with a smile as she turns to face him “Ready to go?”

“Of course!”

George’s brows were furrowed, disapproving her who’s now standing from her seat, “Where are you going?”

“Oh, Cedric and I are planning to do our Potion essays early.” She explains hastily “Also, George, you wouldn’t mind switching partners with him, would you? I kinda need his help with the upcoming assignments.”

The boy blinks, completely taken aback at the wave of information and requests she’s throwing at him.

“Brilliant!” She exclaims, taking his silence as approval “Let’s go, Ced.”

The whole table was left appalled, watching as she walked away with the Hufflepuff boy. Ginny and Hermione were audibly gasping when she linked her arms with him and he ruffles her hair, skipping out of the Great Hall happily. The sight was so peculiar they would’ve preferred seeing Dumbledore wearing a bikini than to witness the situation for the second time. The things she was doing, linking arms, laughing, and getting all jumpy was a sight they would see with George, not Cedric.

Since when were the two close?

“What’s just happened?” Harry broke the silence, blinking his eyes “What’s she doing with Cedric Diggory?”

“Didn’t you hear? They’re going to do their Potions essay.” Fred comments mockingly, knowing that his twin isn’t capable of making up for an answer “I didn’t even know we have Potions essay.”

The younger twin stabs on his innocent sausage as if trying to butcher it to its death. His eyes were vacant, feeling a silly pool of knots forming inside his stomach. To know that she prefers to do Potions essay than to spend time with her literal family at Hogwarts shows exactly where Cedric is positioned in her priority list.

Disappointed would be the most understated word he’s feeling at the moment. She has never been that close to anyone but him. He had always been the one she would drop the world for yet now he could sense that the seat was filled with others. He knew that something was going on. There’s no chance in the seven hells that they simply want to do their Potions essay early. Since when does she care about Snivellus’ classes anyway? Yet the realisation only further stomps him, making him drown deeper into the pits of anguish.

“I’m sure they’re just friends, like we all are.” Hermione comments, noticing the dejected look on George’s face “There’s nothing really to be worried about, George.”

He chuckles bitterly, not looking up to see the girl, “Why would I be worried?”

The table went quiet. They all could see the sorrow bleeding out of his skin. It was common knowledge to the pack that he’s madly in love with her. In contrast to her blatant denial whenever their relationship was being questioned, George chose the more vague path of simply smiling and clinging his arms around her shoulders, showing a sign of approval but not really. As if he was waiting for her to stop denying it so he could finally shed the mask he’s been wearing all these years.

Yet it seems like he wouldn’t ever get the chance to take it off now.

“George-”

“I’ll see you guys at the field.”

The boy shoots a weak smile to the group, standing up as he picks up his satchel and exits the Great Hall. The group stares at each other, feeling the mutual sorry for the heartbroken boy. Everyone could see the quidditch robe left unconsciously on the table and yet, for the very first time, she wouldn’t be the one giving it to him later.

—-

“There’s Stimpson.” She whispered to Cedric before faking a laugh, glancing at the girl who’s just entered the Great Hall “Quick, put your hand around my waist.”

“Is that really necessary?” He comments but still does the gesture “Could she even see my hand under these giant tables?”

“Stop, Ced, you’re hurting my stomach!”

The boy chuckles, watching her fake laughter with glee, “You’re entirely something else, you know?”

She grins as she takes a bite of her toast.

The plan was in motion. The two of them have done more public display of their intimacy, indicating that a romantic affair is happening between the two without telling anyone the truth behind such actions. Cedric found the idea to be ridiculous initially, but now seeing Stimpson to be taking silent glances and frowning lightly at the sight of them together, he came to the realisation that not only is she a great actress, she’s one hell of a genius too.

Yet he couldn’t help but to notice that the green emotions were radiated not only from Stimpson but from one of the Weasley twins too. If anything, the younger twin seems to be in a different level of jealousy that everytime he looks in his direction, he would find the Gryffindor’s eyes to be throwing him daggers.

“You know,” Cedric starts, clearing his throat “As much as I’m grateful for you for this stunt, are you sure it is fine for you to be fake dating me?”

“Yeah, of course. Why do you ask?”

“Because something tells me that one of the Weasley twins is despising it.”

She frowns, turning to see the Gryffindor table where the twins usually sit. Her eyes met George’s for a brief second before he looked away, joining the conversation Lee and Fred was having. She notices from afar the light hue of grey underneath his eyes and how his smile doesn’t seem to reach his eyes, no wrinkles around it as he laughs.

Guilt starts to creep inside her. When was the last time she truly looked at him? He looks awful, despite still looking as charming as ever. She could tell that something was bothering him and she feels terrible for not knowing what caused it. She used to know everything about him like the back of her hand. How long has she been gone, really?

“Are you sure nothing’s going on between you two?” Cedric asks, breaking her train of thought “I really don’t want to be the cause of your ruined relationship.”

“What, no. Nothing’s going on between us. We’re just friends.”

“Doesn’t seem like it.” He argues with a shrug “I mean I’ve seen you two around. Even a blind man could tell that something’s going on between you two. Do you not reciprocate his feelings, is that it?”

“What feelings?”

Cedric stares at her with disbelief, a teasing smile tugged on his lips, “You’re joking.”

“Do I look like I'm joking?”

“He fancies you!” He exclaims with a nudge “Come on, surely you’re not that daft to see it.”

“George doesn’t fancy me.” She comments, looking away from the Hufflepuff boy to hide her blush “Why does everyone keep telling me that.”

“Maybe because that’s the truth.”

She glares at him before looking back down to her breakfast.

Her thoughts were running wild. Being told that George was in love with her by their group of friends has always been something of an ordinary. She never thought much of it as she figured it was just one of those friendly teasing you make within your group of friends. But now hearing it from Cedric who was the literal definition of an outsider makes her ponder if such words ever actually hold some meaning. Is it really that obvious for others that he hoards feelings for her?

“Look, all I’m saying is this fake dating goes both ways.” Cedric continues “On my end I get to make Stimpson jealous and it seems like it’s working so far. On yours, I think that it’s making one of the twins jealous. What I’m questioning is, are you up for such a consequence? Are you ready if he somehow changes his demeanour around you because of our fake relationship?”

She frowns, “George wouldn’t change just because we’re dating, fake or not.”

“Are you sure? Because it looks like he’s ready to hex me to death.”

“Positive.” She rolls her eyes at him “In fact, I’ll come over to their table now and show you that his actions would remain the same.”

“Bet you 10 galleons he wouldn’t.”

She shows a disapproving expression before standing from her seat, planting a small kiss to Cedric’s cheek before walking away from the Hufflepuff table. For some reason she could feel her heart beating faster, unsure if she’s more afraid to prove her words wrong or true. Neither of the outcomes seem to be pleasing for her. If George really has feelings for her then she wouldn’t know how she could live her life knowing that she’s hurt him with the fake dating. Yet if he doesn’t, why does she feel like she would crash and fall from the bitter truth?

“Morning, Gentlemen.” She greets the table “Saved a seat for me?”

“Aren’t you already secured one with the Hufflepuffs?”

Her smile dilutes, George’s cold tone poisoning her, “I’m still a Gryffindor, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, well maybe there’s another spot open down the right.” George continues, still not looking up to her “You can join Ron and his group of friends.”

“There’s a spot right next to you, George.”

The boy picks up his satchel, placing it in the mentioned space, “Full. Sorry.”

She blinks at his callous gesture. It’s hard to believe that such words came out of his lips, the very one person who has always showered her with affection and warmth. She could see the same appalled expression shown on Fred and Lee’s faces, who didn’t expect George to be this bitter at her. Sure they know that he’s been struggling with the new sight of the couple, but never in a million years have they expected to see George being this hard to her.

“I see.” She replies, forcing a smile now “Well, I’ll see you guys at the field then.”

“Don’t even bother coming if you’re going to be with the enemy.”

“What’s got your wand in a knot, George?!” She bursts “Why are you suddenly so cruel to me?”

“Me? Cruel?” The boy questions, this time looking up to see her with angered eyes “I’m not the one tossing their friends away for some pretty boy she’s only befriended with for weeks!”

“Toss away? I didn’t come to one of your quidditch practices and you think that I’m tossing you away?” She questions, chuckling bitterly “I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware that being friends with you meant that I couldn’t date someone I like.”

George smirks, “At least you got that part right.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You really think that Diggory likes you?” He asks, this time standing up to tower her “You really think that someone like him would ever like someone as bland like you? You’re dense if you think that he ever likes you back.”

She let out a shuddering breath, tears starting to prick on her eyes from his harsh words. George seems to realise the weight of his words too as he blinks, facial features turning softer yet still showing the much bottled anger he’s erupting. He opens his mouth before closing it again, unable to make up words to follow his last.

“Fuck off, George.” She says with a cold tone, glaring at the boy.

Fighting her tears, she walks back to the Hufflepuff table with a broken heart. The possibility that George likes her has certainly been crossed out. The words he uttered are not the ones you said to someone you like, let alone someone you love. His words were only the reflection of his jealousy and bitterness that she’s now found someone who could appreciate her as much as he does. Well, did, as she swore not to ever befriend the red head again.

She takes the seat next to Cedric, sniffling slightly, “Kiss me.”

“What?” He questions, looking worried at her teary eyes “What happened? Are you alright?”

“Just kiss me, Ced.”

And so the boy leans in, kissing her gently on the lips. For the first time the couple finally shows intimate gestures, something more than holding hands or hugs, something that further proves that the two are indeed in a romantic relationship. The stunt was witnessed by the eyes of the Great Hall. Some were gasping in awe, some raised their brows in confusion, and two were staring at the couple with a sinking heart. One having a worse anguish than the other.

—-

She chews on her lower lip, trying to focus on the words Cedric was telling but his first sentence rang in her head like a broken record. Stimpson has finally asked him for a study date, meaning that she’s finally taken interest in him. The objective of the fake dating is achieved, there really isn’t any reason left for them to keep the act.

She should be happy that Cedric could finally get the girl he’s always been pining for, yet a bigger part of her wished that Stimpson would approach Cedric a bit later. Perhaps a few weeks from now when things between her and George were already settled. When he’s finally come to her and apologise for the hurtful words he spat on her that day. She knew that there was no way that Cedric would ever like her, it’s not like she cared about it anyway, but did he really think that she was bland? That she wasn’t worth Cedric or any guy’s time? Is she really that unattractive?

“Hey, you okay?” Cedric asks, looking worried at her now “You seem off today.”

“I’m fine.” She says with a smile, taking a sip of her butterbeer “So we should end this act, then.”

He nods lightly, “I suppose.”

“Why don’t you sound happy about it?”

“Because I know things between you and one of the Weasley twins is yet to be resolved.” He explains, taking her hand and giving it a light squeeze “I’m very sorry that with my uprising, comes your downfall with him.”

“Don’t be silly, it wasn’t your fault.” She rolls her eyes, smiling “We’ll figure something out. He’ll come around.”

No, she wasn’t sure that he'd come around. It has been weeks since their dreadful fight and George has made every effort to avoid her. She hardly ever saw him, not even at the Great Hall or the Common Room. It was as if he was a ghost that used to reside inside her brain, now gone into thin air as some beautiful myth she’s to tell to others.

But at the same time, George was there. He was still in their classes, still at quidditch practices, and every other activity that they used to do together. The fact that he hasn’t made any effort to fix their friendship hurts her. She didn’t realise that the foolish idea she proposed to Cedric would lead to such a devastating outcome.

And she too didn’t expect that their fight would make her realise that she’s in love with her own best friend.

Perhaps she was denying everyone’s question about their relationship because she was scared that the affection only flows one way. George has never approved nor denied the accusation thrown at him about them anyway and he certainly never made any effort to advance with his feelings should he ever have any in the first place. It was hard for her to tell if what others say was true about them and she didn’t want to have high hopes over something that he himself hasn’t approved of.

But now that the fight’s happened, how he blatantly says that she was bland, she knew that the words others say were mere lies. George had never liked her that way. She has always been a friend to him, nothing more. The affection he’s shown to her was nothing more than platonic and it broke her heart.

“So should we end it here? Right now?” She asks, taking a deep breath “The sooner we break up, the sooner you can woo Stimpson. Might want to be fast before she loses interest.”

Cedric smiles, nodding and standing up to give her a hug, “Thank you, and I hope you can reconcile your friendship with Weasley.”

She nods, waving goodbye to him who’s now walking out of the inn.

She let out a sigh, feeling pathetic to herself now at the corner of the Three Broomsticks. She’s lost George and now she lost Cedric too. Just how worse can her life be now?

Yet as if she’s spoken too fast, she saw her group of friends entering the inn. Fred waves at her, followed by Lee who calls for her name. George was standing not far behind them, seemingly not ready to meet her yet still follows the other two.

“Hello, stranger.” Fred greets, walking to her table “Long time no see. Where’s pretty boy?”

“Freddie,” She replies with a smile “Gone, we broke up.”

Fred’s smile fades, frowning, “I’m sorry, Love, I didn’t know.”

“Yeah, it just happened, actually.” She answers nonchalantly, turning to George this time “Supposedly you're happy now, aren’t you George?”

The boy didn’t say a word, only staring at her with an apologetic expression.

“You know what, I have to go.” She says, not wanting to spend any more minutes with his presence “I’ll see you guys around.”

And so she takes her purse and walks away from the table. She exits the inn in a hurry, not wanting to be followed by any of them. Her chest was tight and head loud. So many things running inside her mind and every one of it revolves around one particular ginger.

How could she face him now? How could she face him after their fight? He was being a jerk that day and now that they’ve broken up, it would only further feed his ego. Being right about their short lived fake relationship would be something George would wear like a badge of honour. She couldn’t care less about him being right, what bothers her is the fact that not only was he right but that she’s also the loser who hoped that her best friend was actually in love with her too.

Why couldn’t George be jealous the way Stimpson did? Why does he have to be jealous for a whole different reason? Why couldn’t he like her?

“Love, wait!”

She fastened her pace as she heard his voice calling from behind. No, she’s not ready to talk to him. Her head is still fuzzy from all the questions and self blame. Meeting him would only lead to another argument and she’s unsure if her quivering heart could survive another turbulence.

“Wait,” George says as he catches her arm, making her stop on her track “Please, I just wanted to talk.”

“Well, I don’t want to talk, George.” She says, still not looking at him “You’ve made your point and you’re right, no need to rub it on my face.”

“No, that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about. What I wanted to say is-”

“Look, I’m tired, alright? It’s been a long day and I really want to get back to my room.”

“I know, this would be fast, I promise-”

“Not now, George.”

She turns her body, ready to walk away before he grabs her wrist again and turns her.

“What?!”

Before she could complain further from his persistent action, she finds herself being kissed on the lips. She could feel how tense George’s body was, in contrast to how gentle his kiss was. His eyes were tightly shut, as if afraid to see her rejection from the abrupt action. The grip on her wrist loosen, giving her the chance to pull away and shove him off if she would want to.

George lets out a nervous sigh when he pulls away. He could see her appalled expression when he opened his eyes, his blood running cold from the possible outcome of his hasty action. Would she hate him even worse now?

“I’m sorry.” He gathers, voice barely above whisper “I- I don’t know what came into me. I just-”

She didn’t let him finish his words. She pulled him for another kiss, this time showing him how to properly kiss a girl. She pulls him close, eliminating any distance between them that seems to be growing further apart lately, He hesitantly rests his hands on her waist, showing more meaning and confidence to his action. Both of their hearts were beating wild, adrenaline pumping through their vessels as they prayed that the other party wouldn’t regret this once they breath for some air.

“We have so much to talk about.” George says in between the kisses “How is this happening?”

“Less talking,” She answers short “More kissing.”

George grins through the kisses. He now has his hands cupping her cheeks gently, giving her his most possible soft caresses. Merlin knows how much he waited and prayed for this to happen. The second guessing and self doubt now has dissipated, melting away with every peck they share. At last the denial has come to a close. Both acknowledging and embracing their long hoarded feelings for each other with glee. What was once loved and lost, have now returned, giving them the chance to properly show their devotion this time.

#george weasley #george weasley oneshot #george weasley scenario #george weasley fanfic #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley imagine #george weasley angst #george weasley fluff #george weasley x reader #george weasley x you #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x oc

[upthebluess]

Up to Standards P2 (Arsenal Girls Academy Story)

The time between your last game with Fulham and your Arsenal signing day seemed to pass painfully slow.

You weren’t the best with new places, or new people, or new coaches. You didn’t like the change, especially when it’s unnecessary.

However, regardless of your own dread, signing day did eventually arrive and before you knew it, you were sat in the car park of London Conley. Your mum had tried to convince you it’d be ok, but you just didn’t want to leave your childhood club.

You probably seemed ungrateful to anyone else. Most footballers would be nothing but thrilled to sign for a top club like arsenal. But you just missed your teammates. The teammates you’d been playing with since U9s.

You said goodbye to your mother with a sigh and walked into reception. Immediately you were met with bright red walls and framed posters of arsenal academy graduates plastered across them.

The receptionist cleared her throat to pull your attention from the decoration, and you made your way over to her. “Name and age group please?” She was polite, but seemed to be rushing you for no reason at all.

“Y/N Y/L/N, U16s” you quickly responded, following the ladies efficient attitude.

“Ok Y/N, your coach will come collect you shortly. Take a seat.” She gestured to the seats behind you.

There were a few other people sat in the room, but most of them with parents or guardians. That didn’t really bother you though, your parents had to get food on the table and working long hours was the way to do that.

You allowed your eyes to wonder around the room, scanning the frames that clung neatly to the walls.

You were interrupted. “Y/N Y/L/N?” A tall brunette man stood in a doorway on the opposite side of the room. He was around 40, wearing arsenals new black training gear and had his hair scraped back with a little too much gel.

He introduced himself right away “Peter Robinson, pleasure to have you here”. He put his hand out for you to shake.

“Pleasure to be here.” You retorted and shook his hand. Although, you had lied. It wasn’t pleasant to be there.

He lead you through an array of hallways, explaining how thrilled they were to have snatched you up and that he expected you’d fit right in to a ‘lovely group of girls’.

Eventually, you arrived at a room which contained only a brown desk, a camera man and a large golden arsenal crest which hung proudly behind the desk chair.

On the desk, sat a single piece of paper and a fancy golden pen. You temporarily exchanged small talk with the camera man until Peter took a seat next to you. He begun to briefly explain the contract and the opportunities that would come with it.

“It would be awkward if you said no now, but i have to ask. Are you happy to sign it?”

“Of course.” Once again, a lie. You weren’t happy to sign it but it was the correct route for you to take if you wanted to reach the WSL one day.

You picked up the heavily weighted pen and placed it on the dotted line. You looked up to the camera and smiled, with Peter resting a welcoming hand on your shoulder.

Click.

Peter then removed himself from the frame to allow you a picture of your own.

Click.

Much to your surprise, as you actually went to sign your name, you were overcome with a sense of pride and contentment. Despite missing your old club, it was a huge achievement to be here, and all you could do now was accept it.

The rest of the day at Arsenal consisted of you being shown around the facilities, which you noted were drastically more prestigious than Fulham’s, and being given your kit.

You had it all, from match shirts, to water bottles, to trainers to boots. They really had provided it all. You’d also received your number for the season.

Number 8. At least you got to bring one thing with you from Fulham, your childhood number.

“Thank you” you said gently as Peter bagged the last of your things up.

“Of course, Y/N. Now before you go, I just want to let you know that there’s no need for any extra pressure on those shoulders of yours. We know you’ll probably be aware that we offered your old club money for your transfer here. This is simply because we believe we can offer your best possible resources in order to develop you as a player to the very top. Just play as we know you can and we’ll have no problems.” Peters said this out of kindness, but only really sparked your ambition further.

You had to prove to him you were worth it.

“Thank you. I will”.

“See you tomorrow, kid. You got a lift home?” Peter turned to look out the window which was being pelted with rain, the English weather giving the pitch-caters a run for their money.

“Yeah, my mum is picking me up.”

And that was that. You were officially a gunner.

Contrasting the way you went in, you left London Conley with high hopes for your future there, and actually felt excited about returning the next day.

On the way home, you spoke to your mum about making a positive reputation for yourself on the media. Most academy players your age had sponsors and managers. You had neither.

You decided to start with a professional instagram, as well as your personal one. Then tomorrow, you and your family would begin to reach out to agents who could hopefully catch you up to the level everyone else was at.

A/N

Hi everyone. Are people invested in this story or just the other one? Pls let me know 😊

#arsenal wfc #alessia russo x reader #woso x reader #womens football #leah williamson #woso community #woso imagine #woso one shot

[gothlcsan]

Good Boy ; JEONG YUNHO

PAIRING sub!yunho , dom afab!reader

GENRE 18+ smut

SYNOPSIS Yunho is a sophomore in college, frequently stressed out by his younger brother, Yejun. He comes home to a living room full of freshmen and one happens to catch his eye, you.

WORD COUNT 4106

WARNINGS puppy play, masturbation, dom!reader, sub!yunho, overstimulation, nipple play, degradation, rough sex, penetration (strap), unprotected sex (no mention of protection), voyeurism, face smacking, blowjob, biting and kissing

♫ death wish - role model

a/n day ten of kinktober ! i know i said i wouldn’t repeat idols but .. he’s my ult and makes me sick and twirl my hair. > < so, let me pass this one time.. if you enjoyed please consider liking and reblogging! thank you. ♡ ～（ゝ。∂)

“Yejun, you cannot be serious right now.”

Yunho is the oldest out of two sons which comes with its own set of responsibilities and this moment was a perfect example of those unspoken responsibilities. He stares in horror, his younger brother surrounded by his friends with snack wrappers everywhere on the floor, empty bottles of soju dripping onto the table. His brother, Yejun, smiles at him gesturing towards with an already emptied soju bottle.

“Do you mind getting me another?”

Yunho yanks it out of his hand and slams it down onto the table, yelling at them to get up, clean their mess and leave. Yejun whines that it’s not fair but is quickly silenced once he catches his older brother’s expression, instantly sobering up and running to sort their trash. It was midterm season and an already stressed Yunho wanted nothing more than to just go home, hide in his room, and relax. He wasn’t expecting to unlock the front door and be met with his brother and his group of friends piled around the tv playing games.

Once the living room was cleaned and reorganized he had calmed down enough to agree to let Yejun’s friends stay but under the conditions they had to leave before he woke up. He didn’t have anything against them nor disliked them, he just knew they were going to be extremely loud and he wouldn’t be able to relax. Sighing, Yunho turns to finally head to his room but stops as he hears his brother call his name, turning back around, raising an eyebrow.

“Did you not bring your boyfriend with you today? I was hoping you would have so I could show these idiots on how to actually play this game.”

Yunho blinks before sighing with his hand pressed firmly against his forehead.

“Yejun, for the millionth time, Mingi and I aren’t dating and unlike you, he does more than game so he couldn’t come over today.” Yunho walks away entering his room but not before shaking from a shiver running up his spine swearing that the younger freshman sitting next to Yejun was staring into his soul.

For the following week, Yunho becomes aware of the freshman. She was the newest addition of his brother’s friend group, the silent type but clearly had a staring problem Yunho concluded. They ran into each other here and there, especially at home, you walking in on Yunho getting changed in the bathroom, both blushing and yelling apologies at each other. Exchanging numbers in case you needed anything from Yejun, Yunho wondered why you wouldn’t just text his brother but you were attractive and he wasn’t opposed to receiving texts from you.

Days go by without incident, finally seeming to go back to normal until Yunho sees his brother's friends again, being a day before their college exams, Yunho tiredly trudging into his bedroom not stopping once to say hi to anyone. He knew he had to study but he couldn’t get the motivation to, falling face first into bed as he allowed his eyelids to shut.

He’s restless, not being able to relax nor sleep from the loud chaos coming from the living room, Yunho huffs in irritation and turns to lay on his back, biting his lip as he takes his cock out. Moaning involuntarily behind his hand, he begins to stroke himself slowly. Stress melted from his body as he squeezed his eyes shut tight, no longer holding his moans back by much, rocking his hips to meet flush with his hand. Yunho shakes as he stops mid stroke knowing rubbing one off wouldn’t be enough, opening the drawer of his nightstand to grab his wand, body shaking at the expected pleasure from just turning it on, the vibrations making his stomach tighten.

Placing the wand directly onto the head of his cock, Yunho squeaks and moves it away, he was more sensitive than he imagined. He plays with the settings before he’s lost in his own pleasure, head hanging to the side with drool on his cheek, wand pressed against his cock, two fingers working his hole. Moans fall from his lips, panting as he feels his stomach tighten and thighs shake. Yunho doesn’t realize how loud he’s being, fingers desperately working to help chase his high, wand pressed against his groin as he goes back to stroking himself, using his precum to lube himself to jerk off faster. His head was in the clouds, chest rising and falling quickly as he pants with each stroke. He knew he was going to break, a third finger being more than enough for Yunho to cry out and cum onto his chest, the wand making him shake from the overstimulation.

It’s minutes of laying still and catching his breath before he’s sitting up and grabbing a tissue off his desk, cleaning himself up. It’s a couple minutes later when he realizes his door in fact did not shut entirely behind him when he came in, fear sinking into Yunho’s stomach. Has anyone heard him?

Yunho waits roughly thirty minutes before he opens his door further, poking his head out and looking both ways, darting to the bathroom. He properly cleans himself up, giving himself a pep talk before walking quietly into the kitchen, grabbing a water from the fridge; jumping out of his skin when he closes the door and turns to go back to his room, coming face to face with you.

“Can I help you?” Yunho asks with uncertainty, confused on why you were standing there. You point over his shoulder behind him towards the fridge, moving past Yunho.

“I was going to grab a snack if that’s okay with you, Yunho. It is, right?”

Yunho only responds with a quick nod, blush creeping up his neck. He couldn’t explain it but you made him feel embarrassed, even when he did normal day to day tasks. He watched quietly sipping from his water while you walked around the kitchen preparing snacks for your friends, turning around suddenly with a smirk on your lips.

“Do you need something, Yunho?”

Reality sets in for Yunho and he frantically shakes his head, leaving the room, not looking behind himself once until he slams his bedroom door behind him. A second wave of reality washes over him as he jumps into bed. Cursing at himself for getting flustered, hating himself for having a hardon for his brother’s best friend.

It has been months since their last awkward encounter, a few weeks since Yunho started purposely avoiding you. He’d stay busy in class all day, going out with Mingi and San at night just to hopefully avoid running into you. He hated how bothered he was by you, he hated more the idea of admitting he could possibly have a thing for the younger, an internal battle he didn’t want to face yet. Their last real interaction being the thing that set this new daily routine of avoiding you. He wasn’t expecting to come home from a late night of studying at the library, turning the corner to his bedroom as you walked out of the bathroom, towel wrapped tightly around your body. Yunho’s eyes widened along with his mouth as he quickly shut both and turned away to rest his head against his bedroom door.

“Oh, hi, Yunho.”

“I didn’t mean to look,” Yunho stumbles on his words, body frozen and burning up from embarrassment of gawking at you.

“It’s okay, Yunho. It’s your house so I’m sorry for freaking you out. I just got back with your brother from working out so I wanted to shower.”

Yunho opens his eyes and turns around, holding his breath as he struggles to keep eye contact. Your hair is wet allowing water droplets to fall and cascade down to your collarbones and exposed chest, causing Yunho’s cheeks to flare up from shyness.

“It’s ok, I just wasn’t expecting it, you look great. Sorry, I got to go. Study, I have to study.” Yunho opens his bedroom door, leaving you alone in the hallway before you even get a word in. Chuckling softly as you walk down the hallway into the guest bedroom thinking Yunho was the cutest thing on earth.

So, it wasn’t that much of a shock once Yunho started avoiding you more seriously, doing everything he could to ensure their paths wouldn’t cross. He felt awkward, staring at you and for the vulgar images he thought of while stroking himself. Yunho felt dirty and didn’t want to continue feeling as such so his brilliant course of action was to completely forget you ever existed. Which he failed at clearly and very quickly.

Once again, Yunho laid in bed with his hand covering his mouth as he moaned profusely as he stroked himself. Sweat beaded along his eyebrow as he continued to chase his high. His mind was in a haze, so caught up in his high he nearly screamed as you crossed his mind.

Why now?

Yunho felt disgusting but his hand continued to stroke himself, faster now, he didn’t want to acknowledge how hard he had gotten from the idea of the two of you having sex. Imagining how you would feel pinning him down, your lips exploring his skin and leaving open mouth kisses onto the skin on his inner thighs. He wanted to feel small against you (despite the respectable height difference), his body shaking as he slips from any reality where he was in control.

“Fuck, y/n, please,” Yunho groans with a whisper as he reaches his high, a jumble of swear words and moans falling from his lips as he came onto his hand. Turning his head and gasping when he sees you staring at him with wide eyes. Yunho scrambles to cover himself with a blanket, you quickly slamming the door and apologizing saying that you hadn’t seen anything - - that Yejun wanted him. He was doing so well at avoiding you and the one night he put his guard down, you just had to show up. He felt disgusted and that feeling left Yunho wanting to violently throw up.

He quickly cleans himself up and pushes past you to wash his hands, ignoring you entirely to go see his brother. He had decided that he was not going to allow himself to let you affect him anymore. Which, once again, he fails at miserably. The universe must hate him or you’re a literal devil, proven clear a few weeks later when Yunho is now staring at you in horror as the youngest is holding a pair of puppy ears and pointing at Yunho’s closet.

“I was looking for my brother’s jacket I let you borrow. I asked Yejun to ask you and he said to just grab it because you were with your boyfriend, I am so sorry.”

Yunho angrily snatched away the ears, grabbing the jacket off his desk chair, throwing it into your direction and told you to stop being so nosy, wanting you to get out. You quickly agree and start to make your way out of Yunho’s room, stopping once Yunho calls out your name in a soft tone.

“I don’t have a boyfriend.”

You only smile and nod, pointing at the ears in Yunho’s hand.

“So, you aren’t into pet play with him?”

Yunho turns into a dark shade of red, telling you to shut up and slams the door behind the younger, hearing you laugh all the way down the hallway. What a sinister prick, Yunho thought.

After their (Yunho’s) failed attempts at avoiding you, he gives up on that quest; the two of you rapidly get closer each day. The friendship was short -lived, only taking a month before they started dating. Yunho feels a lot less guilty stealing quick glances and thinking about you in his alone time. It’s not too long after when they revisit Yunho’s collection buried in the corner of his closet, Yunho embarrassingly explaining to you what pet play was, who laughed and nodded, saying you already knew what it was.

It didn’t take long before you were calling Yunho puppy.

Not that Yunho minded it, eating up every praise dished out to him.

You were always a very soft dom when it came to Yunho, it was something that Yunho admired but he wanted to see you get mad. So, he did everything he could think of to annoy you, not listening, acting oblivious to others flirting with him, laughing too hard at stranger’s jokes. This was quickly caught by you, who was now not only annoyed by your boyfriend acting out of character, but annoyed with Yunho's seemingly carefree attitude.

Once they get home, you seem awfully quiet, and Yunho starts to worry that he genuinely messed up and upset you, quietly following you to your shared bedroom. Yunho jumps as he feels an arm snake around his waist, bringing him down to sit on their lap, turning to stare at you. Excitement and fear crept in Yunho’s stomach, your face was unreadable and calm, too calm. Shivers running over his body as you worked. No words are spoken as you place a collar around Yunho’s neck, leash attached to the front, Silently moving him off your lap, placing him down onto the bed to retrieve the ears in the closet. You placed them onto the top of Yunho's head, adjusting them to sit perfectly. Firmly telling him to lift his arms, Yunho listening to these orders, biting his lip willst you lift off his shirt. He blushes profusely when you help him remove his jeans, sitting back onto the bed quietly watching as you take off your own shirt. Yunho dug his nails into his thighs as his eyes darted to yours. They're thick, pretty, Yunho wants to kiss them but he’s brought to you as you move to stand directly in front of him. You wrap the leash around your dominant hand, yanking on it, causing Yunho to slam down onto his knees, a gasp of air coming from the elder’s chest.

“Why can’t you be a good puppy? Answer me, Yunho.”

“I didn’t mean,” he’s silenced with a second yank on the leash, hissing as he slams chest first against your knees.

“Dogs don’t speak now do they?”

Yunho swallows nervously and barks. It’s deep, yet quiet which clearly isn’t what you wanted, eyebrows furrowed as you stand up and press the heel of your foot against Yunho’s lap.

“Again.”

Yunho barks until his throat hurts, you mockingly laughing as you feel him harden against your foot, precum soaking through his boxers.

You remove your foot and push Yunho backwards, shaking your head then squatting down in front of him, placing a hand under his chin, tilting Yunho’s head back to get a real good look into his eyes.

“You’re not trying too hard on being my favourite puppy, hm? Will I need to bring Yejun in here to show you how a real puppy acts?”

Yunho whines, sniffling as he shakes his head. He places his head onto the top of your knees and nuzzles the skin there, praying that you will forgive him for his actions. He knows that you and his brother never had anything past a platonic relationship, you using it to only rile Yunho up with his possessiveness.

“Sit up.”

Yunho springs up instantly and sits politely, resting his hands flat against his thighs as he waits for his next set of instructions. Watching closely as you walk around the room grabbing various things and placing them onto Yunho’s bed, his stomach burning red hot thinking of what you could possibly do to him.

“Up. Up, pup.”

Yunho crawls onto the bed, sitting politely on the edge on all fours, staring up at you who’s positioned yourself at the foot of the bed. Your eyes are dark, something that excited Yunho so much it sent shivers throughout his entire body. He sits obediently whilst you brush back the hair that sat on his face, responding to each touch with a hum.

“Do you remember what happens to puppies that talk back to their owners, pup?”

Yunho takes too long to answer, resulting in a sharp slap against his thighs, the cool leather whip leaving marks against them. He bites his lip knowing making any sort of noise would result in another hit. You ask again, Yunho scrambling for words that come out incoherently resulting in another hit. You demand him to strip off his boxers, wanting to see his thighs. The two of you continue to go back and forth for a few minutes, Yunho’s mind so blurred he can’t even think while you get fed up and grab him by the back of his hair, bringing his face towards your own, only being a mere few centimeters apart.

“Maybe this will help you remember, pup.”

Yunho’s eyes widen as his mouth is filled with your strap, tears stinging the corner of his eyes at the sensation. His throat burns as you rock your hips making Yunho take every inch of it, fingers tight around the puppy’s hair. It’s a delicious feeling that Yunho enjoys much more than he’d like to admit, gagging around the younger as his mind blurs even more. He reaches down to stroke himself, pin like needle sensations running through his hands from you striking him with the whip. It makes you pull out of Yunho’s mouth, the puppy whining at the sudden loss of fullness, looking up at you with a confused look.

“You can’t even listen for five minutes can you, ungrateful brat.” you hissed before grabbing Yunho’s cock into your hand, squeezing the head into harshly.

“It’s a shame you have a huge cock, you know? You can’t even use it properly.”

Yunho whines hungrily at your degrading words, fighting the urge to buck his hips up into the younger’s grip. You’re quick to notice the pup’s eagerness, chuckling, dropping your hold and slapping Yunho’s cock watching as the elder yelps. His ears are filled by your degrading words as he slips from any hold of reality he had before, begging for you to forgive him, begging to be touched. Leaning forward a bit, you duck down to kiss Yunho on the lips, not being able to suppress the laugh falling against said lips before landing another firm slap onto Yunho’s cock.

“Now the puppy wants to listen? You’re pathetic, Jeong Yunho.”

“Please,” is all Yunho could shakily muster out, tears running down his cheeks. His cock flushed red against his abdomen, begging to be touched. You pull Yunho towards yourself, bringing his legs to hang off the bed, then painfully slowly starts climbing onto Yunho’s lap.

“Master, please.” Yunho groans as he begs, panting at the closeness of their bodies makes him feel as if he’s on fire. Yet, you have none of it, telling him to be both quiet and be good. You shakily raise your hips and place your lube covered thighs around Yunho’s cock and press them firmly together, resulting in Yunho throwing his head back with a cry. The lewd, wet sounds of you moving your hips, thighs tight around Yunho’s cock made the elder squeeze the comforter between his fingers, body shaking like a leaf.

“Y/n-ah, please.”

Your body stiffens, looks down at Yunho with a glare, loosening your thighs and snaking a hand up to roughly grab Yunho by the throat.

“Who are you speaking to?”

Yunho apologizes quickly with tears pricking his eyes, trying to kiss the hand wrapped around his throat, not making it anywhere near close. Babbling on that you are his master, how he’s sorry for messing up, begging to be forgiven, You must’ve forgiven him because now you were shifting positions and lowering yourself to stand up off the bed. With a quick snap of your fingers, Yunho is sitting on top of you, his cock heavy on his abdomen, ears stained red from embarrassment.

Running your hands down Yunho's body, finding a home holding his thighs, Yunho groaning from the added pressure on his welts. He swallows hard as you speak to him as if he’s the dumbest person on earth, hands lifting him up and instructing Yunho to position himself prettily on the strap. You simply loved the way your much larger boyfriend looked and acted so small around you, pretty long limbs that turned limp as he melted from your fiery touch. Yunho whines as he slowly sinks himself onto your strap, clenching around the full feeling making you tilt your head back with a moan. Yunho loved how you praised him for being so good, acting as if you could feel every bit of it. Once he got used to the feeling, Yunho was rocking his hips, hands pressed against your chest as he bounced. The sound of skin slapping against skin made Yunho shiver, dipping his head down to hungrily kiss you, whining as you groped his ass, smacking one cheek. The soft jingling of the bell on Yunho’s collar was in beat with his hips, you growing impatient with Yunho’s pace, hooking a leg under his and flipping him over so that you could easily pin Yunho against the mattress.

“Let me teach you how to feel real good, pup,” you spoke softly in Yunho’s ear, kissing down from behind his ear to the center of his shoulder blades. Feeling Yunho shiver underneath you and whining from the teasing, you carefully realign the strap with Yunho’s hole before beginning to slowly push back into him.

“Master, please,” Yunho clenches the comforter between his fingers, looking over his shoulder to watch as you bottom out. He’s greedy, pushing his ass back to meet flush with your hips, who doesn’t accept Yunho’s actions. You’re quick to grab a fistful of Yunho’s pretty brown hair and yank it making him yelp and apologize instantly. It doesn’t do much good, you keeping a steady hand on Yunho’s hair while quickening your thrusts, the bells on Yunho’s collar and doggy ears filling out the room. Yunho babbles about how close he is, the comforter now clenched tight between his teeth, you only continuing to drill into Yunho. Poor pup could barely breathe from begging to cum, crying over how full he felt, how good you made him feel. You knew Yunho was close and fucked out, his glassy eyes full of tears and drool pooling in the space between his cheek and the comforter. His thighs quivering and sweat causing his hair to stick to his face. You couldn’t help but touch all of Yunho with exploring hands, encouraging your pretty pup to hold on a little longer, spanking the side of his thigh as Yunho shakes his head.

“You’ll do as I say, brat. Now, be a good puppy and wait until I tell you otherwise.”

You pull out, receiving a whine from Yunho, rolling him onto his back. Placing your hand against Yunho’s stomach, moving it down slowly before wrapping a hand around Yunho’s flushed red cock, Yunho screaming for permission to cum, hiccuping and crying. You stroke Yunho slowly before stopping to align yourself back into Yunho’s hole, hips snapping against Yunho's pretty thighs, telling the pup to beg louder and then maybe the heavens will hear his prayers.

“Master, please, please,” Yunho begged too fucked out to form complete sentences, tears staining his cheeks. You spank his thigh before leaving toward Yunho, whispering into his ear.

“Cum, you greedy pup.”

Yunho moans at your growling, deep voice, shivering as his body gives out and cums. However you’re not slowing your thrusts once until your own thighs quiver, sinking teeth into Yunho's shoulder when you lean down, cumming. Panting, the two of you fall onto the bed. You don't bother pulling out, cuddling Yunho from behind, letting the older boy warm the strap, kissing the back of Yunho’s neck and reassuring him that he did amazingly well. Love confessions getting lost between kisses and giggles. You finally pull out, smiling as Yunho moans, the boy giving you puppy eyes as he whines from feeling empty. Pressing kisses all over his face, telling him to let you clean up, Yunho pouting and grabbing you by the wrist. You’re a bit shocked by the sudden movement but fall into a bigger shock as Yunho presses your fingers against his now gaping hole, pouting with the biggest puppy eyes you’ve ever seen.

“Please, master, keep me full.”

And who would be the biggest idiot to tell this puppy no?

#gothlcsan #smut #kinktober #kpop smut #fiction #ateez smut #ateez x reader #sub yunho #puppy pl4y #ateez fic #ateez smut fic

[osaevsky]

hello!! congratulations on 100~ followers, i love your works sm ^o^

so, i wanted to request something for the 100 milestone event thingy. what about tachihara with prompt 11 + maybe heavy angst? i feel like it'd work out well ngl, considering his situation and stuff. and if you arent doing angst, you can choose if it'll be sfw or nsfw, thank you so much!

may i be 🦀 anon?

niko's 100 followers event.

i spoil it all by saying something stupid ⠀⠀⚝ after being blinded, tachihara spends some time at the hospital to recover for his wounds, and you decide to pay him a visit. included: tachihara michizou.⠀;    ♡

🥮⠀⠀·⠀⠀⚝⠀⠀⠀;  word count: 1.8k + warnings: not really proof read. gender neutral reader, unestablished relationship, somewhat angsty, talks of wounds & tachihara's own ideals / thoughts he has after the event, feelings of lonliness and assimilation of trauma, one mention of slashing, and a somewhat fluffy ending.

🥮⠀⠀·⠀⠀⚝⠀⠀⠀;  author's note: hi!! and thank you so much ♡ firstly, of course you may be 🦀 anon, and secondly, you've picked one of my favorite prompts from the event lol. i did my best with this, i couldn't really bring myself to do heavy angst since i'm not really capable of doing so (i'm even more afraid of doing tachihara ooc-) but anyway! hope this is to your liking!

Losing is not in anyone's plans, of course.

The idea of losing was far away from him, and although he noticed it got closer in dangerous situations, he still wanted to imagine that failure would never be part of his result. The idea of losing something, losing someone, losing an ability; It was all so unknown that he relied on the feeling of victory.

The comfort and security that it gives a human being to fully trust the idea of winning and cling to it as he stood in front of the greatest uncertainty, the greatest possible danger that someone could face at some point in life.

Taking that a leap of faith to grant oneself a single vote of confidence that others would not have even given. It was all child's play, just nonsense. A “maybe” so poorly pronounced whenever doubts plagued his mind, wondering if it was worth it. As if ‘’maybe’’ was really the last word he could murmur before smiling, boldly facing the danger of each mission.

Although clearly, no actual game resembles the work one had to undergo as a hunting dog, or as a port mafia member at that: not even the pressure of having to carry out something alone, nor the pain, nor the loneliness, nor the loss.

Tachihara stopped being aware due to the adrenaline, leaving behind all the constant flurry of doubts, of the “what ifs”. He was driven by pride, justice and urgency to do the right thing and put an end to a common evil. In exchange for nothing. Precisely for that: nothing. 

In exchange for helping others, perhaps. He liked to think that from time to time, to camouflage his true desire to find himself. Definitely, his greatest goal had always been to find himself.

Being able to overcome his own fears and achieve success with fervor. But now, did he have anything left? He doubted it, and the pain of doubt was greater than the physical pain, even after acknowledging that his wounds were permanent and would not be cured.

He had been in the hospital for days. Tedious days that did not leave him at any ease; not even in moments of absolute solitude, where he sought to get used to that feeling, and above all, assimilate the situation in which he found himself. 

Alone, in the hospital, receiving care without being able to actually believe that everything he had fought for now had been left behind a slash to his eyes. Well, he was able to, but he did not want to; it was different. 

He couldn't fool himself either: he wasn't alone... so to speak. It was not truly a deception, he had received visitors. His companions had given him the honor when speaking about what happened, saying he at least tried - he took on a particular hatred for the word after that - to fight on his behalf against a greater evil.

Tachihara received words, hugs, candid touches and some labored breaths, as if returning the favor of the visit, as was the case with Gin, one afternoon who decided to appear in his hospital room, subjected her to immense sadness. 

Doctors had informed him that he was going to leave sooner than later by that point. One day less before he could set foot on land that was not enclosed between four hospital walls, get rid of the smell of medications, the feel of bandages, and the effect of imprisonment that was nauseating as the count of days of care increased. 

Among the few moments of calm that he could find that afternoon, a sound made him move his head forward, unconsciously searching for the door, following the sound. Knock Knock knock.

He did not answer. He was waiting for confirmation, for the voice of any nurse or doctor asking for permission to enter, but none of that came. Knock Knock knock. He let out a simple “go ahead.”

The discomfort that was brought up during small moments of silence was something he was not used to, but now it was broken by the sound of footsteps that changed the aura that was being created in the room. 

Almost hesitant steps, and a second sound, as if some hands were shuffling an object covered in plastic or made of such. It was frustrating not being able to know what that thing or person was that had just entered.

“Hello, Tachi.” A murmur full of inconsistency in the tone, which almost made him second guess if it was the same person he had associated that voice with. ''Sorry for being so late, I stopped to buy something before coming.''

The footsteps were heard again when little by little you approached Tachihara's bed, your presence becoming more and more noticed by the other. Tachihara scrunched up the bridge of his nose as the thing between your hands made a new sound, making his ears hurt. He assumed it was a plastic bag, with several objects inside it. 

''Don't apologize, it's not necessary.'' His words came out weak, accompanying his state at that time.

Every second felt heavy, a pressure consuming him from inside every time he couldn't find a way to fill those moments of silence between the two of you.

A hand pulled him out of his thoughts. Noticing how you perched it on top of his, providing mere caresses on the back of his with your thumb. It was as if you had already noticed that something was preventing him from speaking, something was weighing him down among those thoughts that occupied his mind.

“You said you bought something, right?” He cocked his head to the side, guided by the feel of your hand. ''Tell me you bought something to eat. I’ve never liked hospital food and I am tired of always eating the same shit meals.''

He was caught off guard hearing your laugh. He didn't remember the last time he had heard it, but he could discern the feeling of yearning it gave him to hear it back once more.

''I have something, yes. It's really nothing but... I guess it will help. I have some fruit to leave you for later… and I hope you don't mind eating a sandwich and drinking soda for now.''

It was Tachihara's moment to laugh, making a small gesture with his free hand. He waited patiently for you to pick up the sandwiches from their containers, as well as listening to the metallic click of the tabs on the cans, before opening his hand and waiting for you to hand him something.

Upon receiving one of the sandwiches, he put it in his mouth without much preamble, the rest of the rustling and movement indicating to him that you were placing the cans on the table closest to his bed.

''Are they treating you well in the hospital?''

It was a question that, in another context, would have been ironic. Perhaps at another time he would have given the doctors a story to tell to their colleagues, but after the incident, there was little left for him to be able to rebel against anyone. He had no reason left.

Tachihara shrugged, a sigh exhaled through his nose.

''Yes, you could say so. I've already told you that the food is absolute shit, but otherwise... it's good.'' He didn't recognize himself, speaking in a tone so solemn that it even caused him to feel weird. “I want to get out of here and not have to think about this again.”

The last sentence denoted a particular rage, punctuating each word as if he were spitting them out instead of talking it with you. He took advantage of the newly established silence to continue eating, opening his hand in a gesture of request once he finished, showing that he wanted the can.

He felt a caress against his fingers as you brought the drink to him, a chuckle coming from you as Tachihara raised his eyebrows curiously. A certain heat filled his cheeks, and a clearing of his throat made it clear that he was readying himself to speak, moving his head to the other side.

“Can I be honest with you?” Before you could answer, Tachihara continued speaking. ''I didn't want you to see me like that. I guess you didn't have anything better to do, right?''

The bitterness was predictable in his tone of voice, even if he hid it behind a lopsided smile. He was upset, anxious. He felt bad about himself and he was aware of his situation, now more than ever having you by his side, having you to see him like this, and taking care of him as if he were capable of nothing.

And he wasn't, at least not for certain things anymore. He had to hide a fright when you placed one of your hands on his thigh.

''Nothing of that. Since what happened I wanted to see how... how you were doing, you know what I mean.'' An inexplicable sound cut off your sentence before being able to continue properly. ''Well, that... It's not what you thought I was here for, I just wanted to see you.''

Tachihara took a deep breath, the hand holding the can shaking for a second before he tightened his grip, bringing it to his mouth so he could spare himself any more stupid comments. What was he supposed to say? “I missed you too”? ''I need your company.''? “Why haven't you come before?”

He couldn't allow it. He couldn't afford to question you about anything. After drinking, he noticed another shake to the plastic bag where you had brought the food, and a smell permeated the room: something sweet, well known for him and his senses.

''Apart from the food, I brought you something else.'' Your voice was now a whisper, returning to the insecurity that had taken over the situation as when you set foot in the room for the first time. ''I bought you flowers.''

Tachihara was no longer going to hide his doubts from him, at least not given the confusion that statement made him. ''For what?''

''There has to be a reason?''

Tachihara unconsciously wanted to cross his fingers, hoping he wasn't the only one who began to notice another wave of heat crossing his body, invading his face for the second time; although the laughter that was heard was enough to give you away, and make it clear to him that he, in fact, was blushing again. And what came next only accentuated his blush.

''I missed you, Tachi.''

He did too. And perhaps the act of missing you was not so unthinkable when he noticed for the first time how his free hand was feeling the surface of the bed towards one of the sides, looking for you, and offering a sigh of relief when he noticed that you received without offering a complaint and providing a slight tug to his fingers, as if you wanted to pull him closer. 

It was a silent ‘’thank you’’, an ‘’I love you’’ without the need for more words exchanged. 

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd fanfic #bsd fic #bsd angst #bsd tachihara #bsd tachihara michizou #bungo stray dogs tachihara #tachihara x reader #tachihara bsd #tachihara michizou x reader #tachihara michizou angst

[aimasup]

I can't do this anymore I have to get this out now

Welcome Home but if they were students in like middle school, human or puppet idk

long post warning

Poppy Partridge

she's the class monitor alongside Howdy and a very good one because she cares so much. Almost too much

more stressed about collecting the homework and class fees than the teachers

takes lab rules verrrrry seriously but you could not pay her to even stand next to a bunsen burner

favourite subject is Physics, oddly enough. Knowing how all these unpredictable accidents can be put into numbers gives her some kind of peace.

If something isn't explicitly stated in the instructions she'll wonder if she's missing something in between the lines

she gets made fun of for her troubles :(

Sally Starlet

Keeps getting into the principal's office

Has skipped school so many times and her grades are barely passing

If she's called up and doesn't know the answer she will make one

Is actually the president of a couple clubs and very enthusiastic during cocurricular activities, also a competent leader

Volunteers for so many activities and events. Not for credit, for fun

Rules announced at school talks because of her: No feather duster lightsaber battles, no standing on tables and starting impromptu sing-alongs, no 'grand car tire roly poly racing' down the halls, no broom twirling, no white balloons, etc.

identifies as Poppy's weekly heart attack

Eddie Dear

Exchange student! The mystery is from where. Most people think he's avoiding the answer

Isn't a leader in anything but has gained a reputation for being such a reliable stand-up guy whose flaws are more forgivable

He's a prefect who gets called out of class more than anyone to help with something

He's always so happy to help but then he gets even more late or tired, and his grades are falling behind

If you asked him to share his lunch money he'd gladly do it. with hesitance.

needs better boundaries

Julie Joyful

School's beloved. The kind of student who gets immediate applause when they perform or receive an award during an assembly

Started her own gardening club, grades are in the top few, an optimism that's as baffling as it is infectious

Sneaks gum and random toys into class, somehow manages to style her uniform in a unique way every other week

"psst can I copy your homework? I'll do your nails"

Can make any old cleaning task fun

Best and favourite subject is physical education, which includes games, gym, health, etc. Basically hands-on learning because she gets bored sitting still too long

Has a competitive side that gets wild if left unchecked

Frank Frankly

Number one in grades, always was, always will be

He's organizational, not lawful. Doesn't mind climbing over a fence or two in the name of education

His desk is almost unreal to look at it's so clean. Thinks of ways to solve a task so efficiently you'd think he's aiming to be class monitor (he is)

Though he intimidates people they often ask for study tips. His handwriting is an actual font and his diagrams look printed

Favourite subject is Biology but you wouldn't know because he excels at all of them

Also a prefect. He met Eddie during the orientation

During free time if he's not studying or doing homework exercises, he's sketching or letting Eddie and Julie gather at his table to chat

*raises hand* "uUhm teacher you forgot to assign homewo-"

Barnaby B. Beagle

If Julie gets candy into class he's somehow having whole dinners at the back. There's a rumour his bag can carry a microwave

He makes jokes during class, he balances stationary on his nose, he calls the teachers dude, his uniform is messy, but he's so chill and sweet that he's comfortable to be around real quick

Never pays attention during class. If he's not sleeping he's poking holes in his eraser with a pencil or something

yet he keeps getting decent grades. Teachers do NOT like him but popular among students

Best subject is English, but not everyone appreciates his poetry and essays unfortunately

Wally Darling

There's being well-liked and then there's 'most crushes accumulated school-wide'. It's no wonder because of how nice and helpful he is

Often told he has so much potential and that he's a model student. Basically teacher's pet

He's apparently known as so kind and sweet and gentle and perfect and cute but his friends know he's just a silly sleepy guy

You either love him or hate him, no in between

Best subject is art, his paintings are often posted around the school and he's done a few wall projects

Focuses verrry well in class! Appears so anyways. Head's always in the clouds, such a daydreamer

Also, certain unexplainables noticed about him. Brings one shiny apple every day but doesn't eat it. Leaves school, yes, but how does he get home? He's always the first one in class too, before Poppy. Somehow has all the latest gossip, but he'd never spill a friend's secret :)

Howdy Pillar

Class monitor, next to Poppy. He's just a handy dude

Helps out in the school cooperative selling items, most responsible out of everyone because he can keep a level head for tasks

Doesn't stand out much, originally just wanted to get through the semesters and get the business experience but soon became a social butterfly

Jarringly cheerful under all the work he takes upon himself. His organizational skills rival Frank's. No one knows how he does it

If someone can't afford to pay for something he helps them out in a way that doesn't technically break any rules

Is also the reason their class alone is cleaner than anyone else's. Poppy is the reason no one's dead

#welcome home #my post #headcanons #long post #julie joyful #sally starlet #poppy partridge #howdy pillar #eddie dear #wally darling #barnaby b beagle #frank frankly #welcome home puppet show

[mistymem0ryy]

Spartan General!Capitano x Athenian Noblewoman!Reader 

Summary: After being forced into an arranged marriage with a politician much beyond your years, you find yourself wasting away as you fulfill the role of proper and noble wife, but as the war that had been waged far away from your land finally reaches the walls that protect your abode you find yourself faced with someone you should have forgotten long ago.

Warnings: descriptions of war, messy brain rot at the beginning in order to explain the historical setting for those that aren't familiar with Ancient Greek history.

Author’s note: do not get discouraged by the initial discussion of ancient wars trust me it gets better along the way – source: trust me bro

No beta we are slain like Reader’s husband

Ok so listen…. I’ve recently been delving again into Thucydides’ “History of the Peloponnesian War”, which is a historical book regarding the Peloponnesian War between two leagues of city states in Ancient Greece… stay, trust me this is worth your time….

As we know the head Polis (city-state) of each enemy league in this war was Athens, renowned for the flourishing of philosophy alongside ancient tragedy and comedy, and Sparta, remembered for its glorious soldiers and also said to be a state where children were examined upon birth and if they did not fit the expected apparent physical necessities for Sparta then they were exposed to the elements and left to die…

Now imagine this…

Spartan General!Capitano and Athenian Noblewoman!Reader 

As we know arranged marriages between young girls and older men was the norm in ancient times, especially between noble families that needed to fortify their stance in the games of power, so we have noblewoman Reader in a rather unhappy marriage with a nobleman from another Athenian family which during the war is called into battle against the Spartans and their allies.

Reader’s husband is slain in battle… I wonder by whose hand… 

And even though the majority of noble people would be protected under fortified walls alongside a good force of protectors, we don’t really need to follow history word for word now do we…

Let’s say somehow an army of Spartan warriors is capable of penetrating and invading a rich part of Athens, anyone that has read ‘The Iliad’ knows what happens next… 

After the slaughtering of the majority of the male members of the village, the enslavement of children and women would be next, but instead of being sold into slavery in ports far away from your homeland, there was always a rather more luxurious form of slavery and that was the one of being take as war booty.

Capitano would feel as if it were his duty to take you as his, since he was the one responsible for the death of your husband after all, a man that in ancient times would have legally been seen as your sole providor. ( And wouldn't you rather be the wife of a Spartan General instead of an Athenian Politician? At least in Sparta women can legally own and inherit land… )

This isn’t the first time you met Capitano, before the conflicts of war the exchange of goods and people between different city states was much more common, religious festivals, noble parties, sport competitions and much more.

Another crucial aspect of ancient society was also that of hospitality, we can see it expressed many a times in Homer’s ‘Odyssey’, to be allowed a stay in someone’s house is a sort of social contract, for now the family of your hospitable friend expects your family to one day open their arms to receive a member of their own conglomerate as an expression of mutual hospitality.

So let’s say that years before the war during the Persian invasions, Capitano’s father helped one of your grandfathers during the incessant battles, offering him and some of his soldiers a place to rest and nourish while preparing for the battlefield. 

According to the law of hospitality your family is now expected to one day receive anyone from Capitano’s blood when in need of aid.

And this happens during a religious festival in Athens, you and Capitano are still quite young, the conversation of marriage has not yet reached your maiden ears and Capitano has just enrolled in one of Sparta’s many academies to become more adapt to the military role that he will one day fulfill due to his family’s legacy.

Since you both are still young you are allowed to interact with each other and play around, Capitano wasn’t exactly an extroverted child, even as a kid his stoic mannerisms were already taking root due to the nature of his education, but somehow you were capable of brewing within his being a genuine childish wish to let go and enjoy nature’s gifts while he still could. 

The stay was prolonged during the festival and you found yourself becoming someone young Capitano considered a genuine friend, you did not fear him due to his unnatural strength for a child nor did you fall on your knees and worshiped him the moment you heard his family name, you were kind and enveloped by the blessings of Artemis, something rare within Spartan walls.

Though after the festival you could both have exchanged letters, according to social expectation such an act was not looked upon with kind eyes. 

You gave Capitano a parting gift, one of your most precious pieces of jewelry for him to keep (something your mother could never find out about), in childlike wonder he made you promise that you would not forget him and that in return he would not forget the kindness that you had shown him.

Capitano waited, he waited for years, he waited until he reached the age of adulthood and was no longer looked upon as a boy but as a man, but perhaps, he waited too long.

His one plan was to attain glory in battle and utilize his prestige as a way of convincing your father that he was deserving of your hand, though Capitano was of noble blood the fact that he was a Spartan could not be ignored, any noble in their sane mind would rather marry one of their children within their own city state than seeing themselves forced to sending them away into a Polis far away for their family home.

By the time Capitano was climbing the ranks and being cheered on by his fellow Spartans for his strength and technique in battle, he could not help but look into the Northern stars and painstakingly wait for the day in which you both could reunite.

He received a letter from one of his fellow Spartans that was spending some time in the city of Athens, informing him of your marriage to come…

The vile thing was more than twice your age, noble or not, Capitano saw him as a plague that must be eradicated from this earth to preserve your pure soul. 

It was the first time anyone saw Capitano genuinely lose his grip upon his stoic façade, and give into a side of himself kept only for the thrill of battle, kept only for the dance between him and death…

Capitano couldn’t feel what he was doing, he believed his rage had taken his own vessel as a puppet and maneuvered him around according to its cunning wish.

By the end of that evening 12 healers were rushing around Capitano’s family’s estate, doing their best to treat his wounds so as to not leave any major scars behind…

Capitano was confined to a monitored room for nearly a month, by the end of his treatment his father found it difficult to face his own son, there was nothing to be said, that evening would not be discussed in public but it certainly wouldn’t be erased from the minds of those unlucky enough to witness it.

Capitano heard the sound of clashing chains and the following sound of a closing door. His father had left something for him right upon his bedside table and retired with no commentary.

Capitano preferred it that way, he didn’t need the words of others to confirm what he already knew.

The state of the letter, the state of the dining room, the state of his face… 

Better to not linger upon it for long.

Capitano decides that this will not be the end, it is far from it. He will not allow this cruel world to encage you alongside that vermin when you were born to bless the world with your charm… or at least, be pitiful enough to bless him with it.

He finally looks to his right and for a split second an expression of conflicting surprise takes over his features, out of all possible ways to remediate this problem he could not help but see his father’s decision as the most practical approach.

Besides the flowery accessory that has taken his bedside table as his home for countless years, there is a towering figure that looms within the vicinity.

He must remind himself to congratulate the craftsman later on during the week.

For he has never seen a Helmet as rectified and as ominous as the helmet that sits besides your parting gift. 

♡ ♡

By the time you saw the looming figure within your vicinity you had lost authority over your own limbs. 

You were supposed to be safe. 

The strength of the walls should have been capable of rivaling that of the Cyclopes.

All you could smell was blood, houses being raided left and right, the cries of children for their dying fathers and stolen mothers.

For the first time in a while you are glad that you were never able to conceive. 

To watch your own child being ripped from your grasp by a Spartan clad in bloodied armor would have been the end of you.

You are all being taken to the Spartan camp, the city’s ruins will not even house the cry of an injured owl.

While the yells of Spartan soldiers ordering you all to move forward invade your ears relentlessly you watch as side glances are throwed in your direction, a certain coolness envelops your previously adrenaline filled body, the heat that dominated every layer of skin escapes as if threatened to do so.

It takes you some seconds to realize that the sun is no longer hammering into your skin with its unforgiving rays, you wished you could pronounce it a temporary blessing of Helios, perhaps even Apollo had taken pity upon your kind, but the growing shade that enveloped beyond the frame of your own told you anything you had to know. 

Someone was standing right behind you, and you had no idea if they were beast or human. 

You refuse to turn your head towards the source of the looming shadow, you would rather die in blissful ignorance now than to live long enough to reach any foreign camp where not even your title could be melted into a shield.

A freezing armored hand reached towards your chin, though it was apparent that those hands were molded for battle, the gentle care with which they carried their task was the real source of surprise.

Slowly and carefully your face was directed upwards, as if the fragility of your composition had increased ten fold, not even your own husband dared treat you with such tenderness.

You already knew what war helmets looked like, though every city state had their own garments of war and shields marked by the symbols of their homeland, there was never much change when it came to war helmets, and yet, you have never seen anything near to the one that hides the void that you suspect is now carefully inspecting your panicked features. 

You feel warm.

A certain warmth feels your body as you recognize the flower garment that decorates the upper part of the helmet.

You can feel the arrival of a headache.

A deep voice escapes from the confines of the helmet.

Though not common for every woman, you had been blessed with the opportunity of learning how to both read and write, your tutors exposed you to a grand variety of noble dialects and literary works before you even knew the duties of those of the cursed sex.

But that language… It was clearly Spartan Greek, most probably a rural dialect since you weren't capable of translating it, but that voice… it was not fit for such a tongue… whatever is being said, this speaker does not wish for you to know.

You can feel your legs give into the ground, before you are met with your own downfall you are swiftly caught by a pair of rigid arms. 

For how many days did they encircle the city?

For how long did they ravage the elegantly crafted buildings of which now only ash remains?

When was the last time you ate without the fear of being poisoned?

When was the last time you slept without the fear of being killed in your bed?

Your body is pressed against fresh bronze, a swift breeze tickles your skin as you are carried away from the crowd, if there are any protests against your taking then none is loud enough for you to hear.

 Though you are sure that the same hands that hold you must have slaughtered countless men you cannot detect any ill intention from this stranger, he does not carry the smell of death upon him and there is not a single blotch of blood protruding from his frame.

You think of closing your eyes and pronouncing a prayer, but who would you dedicate your hymn to… The Gods were clearly not on your side and you fear no dear ancestor could aid from this situation. 

Not even your husband could help you know, his body must be buried beneath unforgiving Gaya alongside the corpses of countless allies.

He will not receive the proper burial. 

Hades will not welcome him into his domain.

His soul has been damned to wander the mortal realm, unseen and forgotten.

You cannot find within yourself any sort of emotion that a mourning widow should display when faced with such a tragedy.

You can feel the approach of sleep.

And as your eyes give in to exhaustion, your heart enforces into your mind something that you have been forcibly keeping away from your thoughts…

You know that the arms that protect you belong to no stranger… but perhaps for your sake, to feign ignorance would be for the best…

Perhaps, you won't even have to resort to such a thing… If the fates are kind then once you fall into the realm of dreams while in the arms of a stranger you will then wake up in the embrace of Kharon instead.

Final Author's notes: I am dead, I wrote this after reading Aristophanes for a whole morning, my brain is in shambles, it was supposed to be a small rambling but I ended up getting excited about it, I am going to take a benuron now, my mind palace is deteorating but at least Spartan General!Capitano <3333

#genshin imagines #genshin impact #genshin harbingers #harbingers x reader #fatui harbingers x reader #fatui x reader #fatui harbingers #fatui #capitano #il capitano #capitano x reader #il capitano x reader #fanfic

[m-y-fandoms]

COMMISSION: Nagito Komaeda x Reader - Love Hotel

Details: V3 has the Love Hotel/Love Key scenarios - I’ve been asked to make a version for SDR2 as if it were canon in the second game as well. If you didn’t play V3 and aren’t familiar with the Love Hotel scenarios/scenes, don’t worry, Monokuma will explain the concept early on in the fanfiction below! Also, I don’t think I used any gendered terms for the reader, it just didn’t come up/wasn’t necessary with the details I was describing. So, anyone can read this with themselves in mind. 

Warnings: Spicy but not NSFW - mature themes and romance into a fade to black/implied at the end just like the actual V3 Love Hotel scenes. Would probably be Mature but not Explicit on AO3 - Also SDR2 spoilers!!!

Word Count: 4k words

When hanging out with your peers and exploring the island, you often found these little Monokuma coins tucked behind objects or hidden under things. These “Monocoins” could be exchanged at the Monomono gacha machine for prizes. Some were tiny, and some had no business even fitting inside the machine. It was a wonder how they got there. In between the stress of the killings and trials, it was nice to exchange little gifts that said “I see you, and I trust you, and I want to be closer to you” with the friends you had left. The Monomono machine often rewarded you with intriguing and seemingly targeted items. For example, when you got a magazine on beast breeding and taming, it was clearly meant for your exchanges with Gundham Tanaka. When wound gauze or a nurse’s apron dropped from the machine, it was obviously a sign to get to know Mikan.

Today’s trinket was a mystery to you: an ornate key - golden with a pink heart-shaped gem embedded onto its handle. It dropped into your hand as you popped it out of the gacha capsule that protected it. It was a nice size, probably to a door rather than say, a locket or jewelry box.

Immediately upon receiving it you began to look for what it unlocked. It didn’t seem like a gift subliminally meant for any of your friends, so instead you chose to find a little adventure in all the chaos, a treasure hunt of sorts. You’d tried little tool sheds or abandoned buildings around the first three islands, back doors or closets inside places like the market or pharmacy. The pink gem made you think of Monomi - or rather Usami. It matched her aesthetic and color scheme. You’d questioned her about it, and she seemed to draw a blank. You felt like she was being honest with you, so you moved on. A frustrating thought began brewing in your mind: maybe the key went to a door on an island that was still locked away from you and your peers. Perhaps the bridges guarded by Monobeasts blocked your path. Unfortunately, following the ongoing pattern, someone would have to die for a new island to become accessible, and that was most defintiely not worth sating your burning curiosity. And so, you asked your closer friends, such as Hajime and Chiaki, to keep an eye out for a possible clue, but ultimately let it go, tossing the key into a accessory dish on the beside table of your cabin.

Speaking of your cabin, there you were, winding down for the night in your customized little cottage in the lineup of huts at the resort. It was cozy, a personalized type of dorm room substitute decked out with items to serve and encourage the development of your Super Highschool Level talent. The cream-colored canopy bed was pretty large for single student and super comfortable, and so on days when the survivor’s guilt wasn’t weighing on your mind like a plague, it was very easy to fall asleep quite quickly.

You’d been asleep for what must’ve been at least a couple of hours when a noise startled you awake. Still groggy and half-asleep, you spot the black and white bear you all hated so very much standing in the middle of your cottage.

“What the…” your words slurred, eyes barely open. You would’ve been freaking out at his appearance, had it not been extremely normal for the bear to pop up out of nowhere. That and the fact that it was against Monokuma’s rules for him to ever hurt a student on his own left you at ease and not fearing for your life.

“Oh, great, you’re awake! Would’ve been awkward if I had to crawl up on the bed and shake ya’ to life! Phew, saves me the trouble!” He giggled in his own little mischievous way as you sat up, giving him mostly your full attention. He never left until he made his point anyway, so why waste time arguing with him for interrupting your beauty sleep?

“Alright, alright what do you want? I’m still tired! Unless someone is dead, say what you need to say and leave…” you grumbled. Monokuma bristled at that.

“How rude! My time is very valuable, you know! Since you’ve been hurting your puny little brain trying to find the solution to that Love Key over there, here I am, going out of my way to help you! You should be more appreciative!” He growled, claws displayed.

“Love Key…?” You looked to the key on your bedside table, still in a bit of a daze. “So that’s what it’s called…” Still not much of a hint, you thought.

“Yep, yep! I’ll tell you how to use it!” He perked up once again. “You see, it opens the way to a very special place! A place you’ve searched many times before… however, it’s form has now changed!”

“Hmmm…” How curious… since you had in fact checked every available area multiple times over.

“You see, if you go visit the motel on the third island right about now, you’ll find it buzzing with an aura of lust and romance!” Your brow raised as he laughed impishly. “That key you got transforms the motel into a place you can clear out some of your most carnal desires at night, but… only the one with the key and… one other person will see this change!”

“What are you talking about?!” You were only half-awake before, but now you were sure you had to still be dreaming. What an insane concept. This is what he came to say? This nonsense?

“Oh, are you starting to get worked up? Are you ready to let it all hang out?” He began to sweat, a wicked, messed up grin on his face. “Your key will unlock a particular Love Suite at the motel,” he continued, barely containing his excitement, “and you and one other person will be invited to spend the night. There, you will be a part of that person’s fantasy. They will see you as their romantic ‘ideal’ and basically just swoon all over you. Think of it as a kind of sexy dream that lets you escape the cruel reality of the killing game! It’s their escape, too though, so it’s important for you to play the role your Love Suite partner wants you to! If you break character, your dear partner may very well wake up in anguish, all pent up and frustrated! And you wouldn’t want that, would you?” He snickered.

“This all sounds very inappropriate and embarrassing, so I think I’ll pass.” You grumbled, shuffling uncomfortably in your sheets. At this point, you just wanted him to go away.

“Oh, don’t worry! What happens there, stays there. Memories are wiped when you exit. Oh, and one last thing: anyone can show up there. Any of your classmates, even those who’ve passed on.

Well now, you had to be dreaming. Memories wiped, the motel transforming, and not to mention four of your classmates were very much dead… how could they show up? Seeing the look on your face, incredulous and lost in thought, Monokuma gasped softly to grab your attention, speaking up again:

“What’s wrong? You seem skeptical. Why not try it out for yourself, then?” If Monokuma were allowed to cause a killing, you’ve sworn this was a plot to set you up. Not that it mattered in a dream, anway. “Let love take hold! Take that ol’ Love Key for a spin!”

~

After much hesitance and with Monokuma having left your cabin nearly a half hour beforehand, you were now out walking alone, leaving the resort and making your way to the third island. You tried not to disturb your other classmates in their cabins, being sure not to make any noise as it must have been well past one in the morning. Sand and gravel crunched below your shoes as you walked rather hurriedly to the long wooden bridge that connected the islands. Moonlight shined off of your pajamas in the cool tropical night breeze, giving a small relief from the usual humidity, and if you weren’t sure this were a dream, you would’ve felt like an idiot, opening yourself up to being an easy target for a killing.

You wrapped your arms around your waist nervously. In the end, you were too curious not to try it out, but you had to admit, you were still mulling it over in your brain:

Their ideal… a shared fantasy… So they wouldn’t really see you as you are per se…  but what did that mean? Did that mean that if they liked submissive cute pretty boys, that’s how you appeared to them? If they wanted a buff aggressive woman, you’d suddenly grow muscles? Would it all be an illusion? Maybe just your personality would change… 

Play along, Monokuma had said…

Passing the hospital and music venue, you approached the motel and immediately noticed the change. The retro sign out front was now decked out in pink and red neon lettering boasting the words Love Motel. The building itself, once dingy, dirty and forgettable, now had spotlights and strobes out front and the yellow, beige and brown chipped paint had transformed into a Valentine’s-type aesthetic. Pinks, reds, whites, the typical colors of the heart and romance surrounded you and gave the motel a whole new vibe. The line of ground-level rooms were still present, and though you assumed your key only lead to one of them, you’d have no trouble figuring out which. One door in particular, smack dab in the middle seemed to be pulsing with life. The paint seemed to be a shade darker on this door, and pink smoke spilled out from underneath the crack. It was like it was luring you in, tempting you to enter. It was as if pheromones leaked from its crevices. You placed a shaky hand on the door knob, entered the key with the other, and gave it a twist. It opened with a hiss, like pressure releasing. You stepped inside, the door closing on its own behind you.

The room around you was mesmirizing, unlike anything you’d seen on Jabberwock Island before. Scattered around were velvety plush love seats and cushions in crimson reds and deep pinks. The carpet was luxurious and pink lava lamps stood nearly five feet tall in the corners of the room. Soft lighting set a dreamy mood. The floor underneath the carpet was checkered tile like a chessboard. Above you dangled a large, expensive-looking crystal chandelier with heart-shaped accents. In the middle of the room was a round, almost comically large bed with a thick red duvet and a mountain of pillows. Your eyes bounced around the room, taking it all in with wonder, until they settled on the area just beside the bed.

“No way…” You gasp lightly, hands coming up to cover your mouth.

“Hello there, (Y/N),” Nagito smiled back at you: genuine, warm, welcoming. His eyes creased into little lines with the expression. Dressed in his usual attire, he raised a hand to wave gently.

It was like every step of this journey, every new discovery proved over and over to you that this was in fact, a dream. You had to be asleep for Nagito to be here. Nagito… Out of all of your classmates, fate chose your crush to place upon you. It felt like an ambush, like a trap.

Your feelings for Nagito had blossomed almost immediately upon meeting him. There was physical attraction at first sight. He was tall, thin, with a pronounced Adam’s Apple and veiny arms. His pale skin was vampiric almost, translucent in the bright sun, especially when he went swimming with little on but his trunks. His hair was wispy like cotton candy, soft and full. You imagined running your hands through it often. You were lured in by his kind and helpful personality. After the first class trial, when you all learned of his true disposition, you fought to keep your feelings under wraps. He was dangerous, volatile, unstable, and a whole lot of other negative adjectives, so you held it all in.

Still, you couldn’t deny your attraction to the mystery that came along with him. He was obviously extremely intelligent, often moving behind the scenes and one step ahead of everyone else. His mind and the way it worked, just the way he talked was alluring to you. It often felt like he was flirting with you when you were around him. You just assumed he was just trying to butter you up to use you, trying to get closer to further his goals of “hope.”

You tried to be around him as little as possible, though… or that’s what you wanted your peers to perceive. You tried to only hang out with him when you had an excuse: looking for clues and evidence, during investigations, interrogating him, trying to get closer to him under the guise of wanting to control his crazy so he wouldn’t hurt your friends. In reality, you enjoyed every moment spent with him. He could be scary at times though for sure, getting all wild and frantic when speaking of the future and his plans for hope, or even knowing he was plotting when he was quiet. Which is why it was so odd that he was almost… shy at the moment?

“(Y/N)...?” He cleared his throat, gaining your attention once again. Shaken out of your trance, you made eye contact with him, feeling instantly a bit shy yourself.

“Yes, Nagito?” You speak softly, never moving an inch. This felt surreal.

“I knew it would be you…” He smiled just barely and took a step forward, a gleam in his eye.

“Nagito… do you know what’s going on here?” You inquired, and he nodded enthusiastically. Always a step ahead.

“When I learned of this place, I just knew it would be you that showed… after all, you’re the ultimate shining hope that eclipses all others! It could only be you!” His arms were outstretched as if to embrace you, or welcoming you to embrace him, but yet he didn’t step any closer.

Ah, yes, his ideal… you think to yourself. He was obviously very mentally ill, you’d gathered, obsessed with the idea of hope even if there had to be an event of despair that preceded in order to propel forward such hope. Sometimes it was vague, to you at least, what hope meant to him. He seemed to know very well what he meant, though nobody else did. Not one hundred percent of the time, anyway.

“So, where should I begin? Tell me how best to serve you! Let me please you!” He took a large stride forward, grasping your hand in his own and bringing it to his lips in a gentlemanly gesture. Like some victorian nobleman greeting a lady, he kissed the back of your knuckles as if he revered and respected you highly. Taken aback by the sudden action, you jerked your hand away.

You felt hesitant… Weren’t you supposed to be his ideal? Why is he all up on you, then, asking to serve and please you?

“Please, allow me to be your stepping stone. Use me, let me be your tool for hope! I know I’m less than nothing, but if I can help you even a microscopic amount, I can die happy!” He fell to his knees, wrapping around your legs like a child latching onto their mother. He looked quite pathetic, actually. He ran a cold, pale hand up and under the pant leg of your pajamas and you shivered. Your heart rate began to pick up at the skin to skin contact. “Whip me if it pleases you, if it feels better and relieves your stress. Hit me! Take out your build-up from the day on me, so you can continue to work hard for the cause of hope!” 

This is wrong… You shook him off gently, backing away until your back hit the door. He stood, a displeased look across his face.

“Nagito…”

“Am I fucking it up? I can do better, please. I’ll do anything for you!” He began to shuck off his outer layer of clothing, his green coat. You found your eyes instantly glued to the veiny expanse of his ghostly white arms, the callous of his knuckles, the way his Adam’s Apple bobbed when he swallowed nervously and-

No… this is wrong! You repeatedly to yourself mentally. Reluctance, sweat running down the back of your neck, this awkward knot in your stomach. You felt confused. This had to be wrong. He probably didn’t really feel this way. Not about you, anyway. Monokuma influenced this for sure… obviously. How could he see you as an ideal? There was no way… you had to get out of here… back to your room and…

But then again… this was a dream. Your mind wandered. This was some kind of freakish lucid dream that you could be aware of and be in control of. Who could fault you for enjoying a dream? When would you ever get an opportunity like this - with your crush of all people - ever again? Maybe you should just… let go… enjoy the night.

Nagito, now devoid of his coat, crossed his arms at his pelvis, taking up the bottom hem of his white t-shirt and began to lift it with the intent to remove it altogether, exposing his belly button and the veins that ran down his lower abdomen. He looked to you for approval. He couldn’t help but notice that even with his eagerness to please, you had a twisted expression on your face. It was uncertain, puzzled, maybe upset with his efforts? You certainly weren’t paying attention to him, that was for sure. He let go of the shirt, and it fell back into place.

“Am I still disappointing you?” His words brought you back to the present, and you looked him up and down once again, stepping a bit forward and back fully into the suffocating ambience of the suite. You were tempted, so very tempted by the mere sight of him. Monokuma had said this was a building of lust and romance. “It is to be expected. I am a total filthy useless loser, and you are the epitome of goodness and cleanliness in this world.” He spoke matter-of-factly, now approaching you again, circling you like a hawk with it’s prey. “Hmmm… well maybe, you aren’t as clean as you’d like people to think?” Suddenly, more forceful than you’d ever seen him, you found yourself pushed back, up against the wall, and he held you there, pinned by his own body weight. 

“N-Nagito!” You sputtered, more shocked by the position he now had you in than than anything else so far on this very strange night. But wasn’t he all submissive just a second ago? This is what you meant by volatile, unstable… 

“Ah well, that’s fine with me, as long as you’re the ray of hope the world needs you to be outside of the bedroom…” His thin fingers trailed up your forearms until they met your hands. Interlocking your fingers with his own, he forced them up and beside your head, locking you into place against the red wall. You swallowed, suddenly feeling very small. His eyes seemed dreamy, lazily glazed over and sultry. A crooked smirk formed upon seeing your flustered reaction. “I have no issue changing strategies…” He leaned forward, whispering suggestively into the shell of your ear. He could feel you tremble at that, content to let him take over. “Your reactions are quite telling.” His grip slipped down from your fingers to your wrists. There was a shit-eating grin, a condescending tone behind his seemingly effortless bravado.

What you were starting to realize was that Nagito could be whoever he needed to be at any given moment in order to meet his goals. In an instant, he could change and adapt. His personality shifted just like that. You questioned how the groveling servant-like act from before could flip into this dominant, aggressively contrasting performance, but that was just it. Nagito’s fantasy was to be the stepping stone that would support and propel the greatest hope the world had ever seen to glory, to have that beacon of hope see him as useful and genuinely feel like he means the world to them. He did this by enabling them to do their best, whatever the cost, therefore, their fantasy was his fantasy. Being what they needed and wanted, that was all he wanted. Their pleasure was his pleasure, like an endlessly looping cycle. You didn’t seem to respond well to the sniveling slave character, so now, he would show you that you could be made to submit to him, that he could be your ideal and force you to relinquish control. If that’s what you wanted, he would fill that role.

His grip on your wrists tightened, a bit painfully. You sucked in air through your teeth at the pressure. He was so lanky and thin, you’d never guess he was this strong. You probably couldn’t shake him off unless you used your full strength and and the boost of an adrenaline rush. Your eyelids fluttered closed, finally accepting the blissful feeling this dream could provide.

“I can tell you like this… You’re trying to hold back all reactions and sounds, but you should just let go… I know already… I know~” He teased, leaning in until his forehead touched yours. The closeness, the invasion of your personal space excited him. He truly didn’t have many opportunities for physical touch in his life. Knowing it was with his ideal match, this experience, all of it set his heart ablaze in his chest. “Who would’ve thought? Heh, wait until the others hear you’re not so innocent…” You knew Nagito as one who never missed a beat, that’s why he was so useful in class trials and during investiagations. So of course he noticed when your bottom lip quivered and the tiniest, quietest moan escaped the depths of your throat. He exhaled amusedly, a puff of satisfaction through his nostrils. A checkmate of sorts. “Oh? You seem to like even the threat of me telling…” He was smug, so very smug.

“N-No, that’s not true…” You breathed out an overstimulated, constrained response.

“You want me to be meaner to you?” It was posed as a question, but he wasn’t asking for permission. Without waiting for a response, he firmly pressed his mouth to yours, lips enveloping your own. Your head tilted to meet his, melding perfectly into each other. Your hands itched, begging to be allowed move, to run your fingers through his hair, but he wouldn’t release his grip on your wrists. He loved to feel you struggle against him. Pulling back from the kiss, he allowed you a moment of air. “Okay, okay… I’ll extend this one little kindness…” he whispered, throaty and intoxicating. He let go of your left wrist, using that hand instead to move to the front of your pajama shirt. He popped upon the first button with a single graceful movement. With your newly freed hand, you savored your first little taste of the cloud-like texture at your fingers. You were in heaven. His hair was just as fluffy and soft as you’d always imagined.

As his fingers descended down and down, removing the obstacles of every button in his way, you looked over his shoulder at the expansive, lavish bed behind him. It seemed a very long night was ahead of you.

#commission #writing commissions #nagito x reader #gender neutral reader #nagito komeada x reader #nagito x you #nagito komaeda #trigger happy havoc #sdr2 boys #sdr2 goodbye despair #danganronpa fandom #danganronpa imagine #danganronpa #x reader #fanfiction #imagine #scenario #spicy #fluff #y/n #one shot #commissions open #danganronpa v3 #v3 killing harmony #female reader #male reader #s/o #danganronpa 2 #super danganronpa 2 #angst

[bamdelune]

In Hindsight 📹 Ch. 09: "ping pong"

You feel a tap on your shoulder just as you claimed your change from the student who was running the stand you were buying from just now. You turn your back to see Kuni awkwardly standing behind you, stiffly waving — you look behind him and see who you assumed to be his friends. One was face palming, one was trying to stifle a giggle, another was calmly observing and the last was probably cheering behind Kunikuzushi.

"Kuni! I didn't know you went to stuff like this?" You greet with a smile, holding your snack and phone in one hand while the other rested on your hip.

He scratches his purple locks, "Yeah, I was kinda dragged here but I guess it's a nice change. Oh yeah— um, my friends were wondering if you wanted to join us explore the fair. I believe the twins are running a few things as committee members and Xinyan is kind of busy."

His words would've been drowned out by the crowd's chatter if you weren't standing so close to him. "Woah, you actually know my friends' schedules by heart." You joke, patting his shoulder as if to tell him good job.

"Actually, yeah. It's kinda boring not hanging out with anyone," you pout slightly. "Are you sure you don't mind me coming along? I don't wanna intrude on anything."

Kuni's face shifts and shakes his head no, chuckling awkwardly. "It's fine. After all, they were the ones who quite forcefully asked me to invite you. Those losers behind me? Yeah. That's them."

You peer behind him once more to see 4 people conversing (you think, maybe they were trying to act natural which you laugh at their attempts).

"Auhm... sure! I just have to leave you guys for a bit before 8pm since I have to assist something for the concert." You say, walking to their table.

Everyone exchanges greetings and introductions, Ajax and Venti send a few weird smug looks between you and Kuni but you assume it's just in their personalities. You swoon for sometime over meeting Venti in person, you've heard of him a few times in the industry and frankly, his songs were addicting. You spend the rest of the day playing the game booths with them. At some point, you receive Kunikuzushi's prize from the ping pong cup game ran by Hu Tao and Yanfei from the Humanities department — it was a medium-sized penguin plush that seized your heart the moment you laid your eyes on it.

When 7:50 pm strikes, you say your rushed goodbyes to the group and make your way to the backstage of the venue. It was time to do your role for the fair's concert. Your excuse from earlier was a cover for your actual job for tonight:

...which was to perform in front of the university for the first time ever as a performing artist.

synopsis. You are a singer-songwriter. Music has always been a part of you, it's a part of your identity that no one can ever take away. However, there's always a catch: you are diagnosed with a chronic illness that puts your life on a timer. Those who have heard your countless melodies have grown to notice that the notes on the sheet played a gloomier tune. Would the snarky and capable medical student you've met be able to bring life back into these melodies? Even as life begins to seep out of your own body? (scaramouche x gn!reader)

tags. gender-neutral reader, angst, fluff, crack, heavy contexts of death and illnesses, friends to lovers, slowburn, profanities, drinking (characters are in college), suggestive themes but no nsfw.

taglist. (open, reply or send an ask to be added) — @beriiov @alatusorrow @br0oke96 @ohmyfinggod @itzblazekun @featuredtofu @sketcheeee @lazy-sanns @sakurapeach @sheraffim

masterpost ★ masterlist © bamdelune 2023. do not repost, translate, plagiarize any of my works without permission, thank you so much! reblogs, notes, and comments are always appreciated!

#bamdelune #genshin impact #genshin #genshin x reader #bamdelune's bookstore #genshin smau #📹 (in hindsight) smau #scaramouche x gn reader #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x you #wanderer x reader #wanderer #kunikuzushi x reader #kunikuzushi #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact angst

[onlyhereforthestories]

The First of Many Mingled Christmas Days (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

Day 5! This is the other request I received so I hope you enjoy anon! I hope everyone is enjoying all the amazing fics being released for the Christmas period so many wonderful writers are smashing it!

You weren’t sure how or why you agreed to this idea, you did not have the room or the patience to cook a whole Christmas dinner for two mingled families 3 days after playing your final game of the calendar year. Yet you had. Somehow you and Alexia had said you’d host the family Christmas this year and that included both of your immediate families. 

You were lucky in the respect that your family was smaller than Alexia’s. You had no parents left and you only had one annoying brother, he did come with his own little family but you were very happy with that fact. Your niece was one of your favourite people on the planet and your sister-in-law had recently given birth to another little girl that you were excited to finally get to meet. 

Alexia had wanted to keep actual Christmas Day small this year so had decided to have a bigger family gathering the day after boxing day with her extended family. This meant that only Eli and Alba would be joining you for the main day which you were very excited for. Your families had met once before and that was before your nice had even been born so you were over the moon that you would be sharing this day with all of them together. 

This didn’t mean you were excited to cook and you were letting Alexia know this. “Babe we have not even got a big enough oven, how are we meant to cook everything. I’m not doing this half effort, we have to have all the components for it to be perfect. Eli is one of the best cooks I know I gantlet her down with cooking a shit Christmas dinner. When are we even going to go shopping for all this and do we need to buy a bigger fridge.” 

Before you could carry on your rambling Alexia put her hand over your mouth to stop you. “Okay okay amor, calm down please and breathe. Our oven is big enough and I brought that warmer thing to put things in to keep warm so everything doesn’t have to be ready at the same time. Mum loves you and your cooking so we both know you aren’t going to cook bad food plus I’ll be helping the whole time so it will be we cooking great food. We’ve got this bebe, it’s going to be a great day.” 

You took a deep breath and leant into the woman currently soothing your running mind. “I always love it when you say we.” Grinning down at you, Alexia leaned in and pressed a kiss to your waiting lips. No matter what happens in a few days time you knew it would be okay as long as she was by your side. 

Christmas morning had been amazing so far, you and Alexia had had a quiet morning in bed exchanging your own more private gifts before anyone arrived. Even though you had spent the last couple of christmases together you would never tire of having a morning like this with her. 

You had been up for about an hour now and food preparation was well underway. Eli and Alba were walking over now and your brother and his family were due over in the next hour or so. You were determined to have most of the preparation work done before your nice arrived, you wanted to play with the gifts you and Alexia had brought her. 

You were elbow deep in carrot peelings when Eli and Alba made it, Alba dragging Alexia away to deal with Christmas music and presents while Eli joined you in the kitchen. “Mama you don’t have to worry I’ve got this.” The older woman laughed at you which had you pouting in her direction. 

“Mija if you think I’m going to let you stand here alone doing this you are mad, now what do you want me to do.” After a few back and forth arguments you gave in and gave her the job of cutting the peeled carrots you pass along. The two of you worked up a flow and fall into conversation about next years plans and how the season is going right now. 

Before you know it everything is ready to be cooked when it is needed and the four of you are sat in the front room, mulled wine in hand chatting about anything under the sun. Alba was telling you about the family holiday she wanted you all to take once the season was over and Eli was asking when you and Alexia were planning on moving out of the apartment you were currently in, she claimed it wasn’t big enough for you anymore. You and Alexia dodged these questions perfectly for now, the house you had brought the month before not ready to be shown yet.

 You were just about to get your phone to check where your brother was when the doorbell rang, the three women couldn’t help but laugh at the small excited squeal that left your mouth. 

Pulling the door open you were almost barrelled over by the small body colliding with your legs. “Auntie y/n, I missed you.” The small angelic voice was what you had been waiting to hear for the past 3 hours since waking up. Reaching down you grabbed the little one under her armpits and hoisted her up breathing heavily as you did getting the infectious giggle you were hoping for.

“Wow Riley have you grown or have I got weaker in the last few weeks.” You tickled the girls side as you said this and basked in the girls joyous laughter. This girl was the light of your life and everyone knew it. 

“Where’s Auntie Ale?” The breathy way she said it had you chuckling, the tickling obviously taking its toll a little. Popping her back on her feet you told her to go find Alexia in the front room before she could go you pressed a couple kisses to her head which she seemed at before running off as fast as her little legs could carry her. Turning back to the door you pulled your brother and sister into a hug before peaking in the baby seat settled down next to the door. 

“She’s perfect.” Your brother beamed at you with that pride in his eyes that only a parent can have. He pulled you back into another hug and said his thanks before telling you to grab her out and have your first Auntie times 2 cuddle. 

You walked into the living room with the sleeping baby in your arms to find your families all mixed together, Alexia, Eli and Riley were on one sofa laughing at something the 4 year old was telling them, while your brother, his wife and Alba were pouring more mulled wine and chatting about something obviously interesting if Alba’s face was anything to go by. You glanced down at the little one in your arms, her peaceful resting face exactly how you felt in this moment. 

Arms snaked around your waist from behind and a chin rested on your shoulder. “Oh wow she’s perfect.” Turning to kiss the woman’s cheek you took a moment to look at her side profile while she admired the sleeping girl in your arms. You would never understand how lucky you got that she chose you to love in this world but you would spend the rest of your life making sure she never regrets that choice, that’s for sure. 

“That’s exactly what I said when I saw her, its the baby button nose I’m sure of it.” You felt the rumble of laughter before it even came out of her mouth. “Do you want to hold her?” The little squeal and unwrapping of her arms from around you was all you needed for confirmation. You handed the little one over to the love of your life and for a moment you swear you could see your future. It had you frozen momentarily as the woman walked towards her mother, before you were broken out of your trance by Alba.

“You okay sis?” You shook your head and turned to the younger Putellas sibling, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into your side you replied in a slightly dreamy state. 

“Yes more than, just saw my future and I’m not sad about it one bit.” With a wink to the slightly shocked woman you squeezed her in a side hug before letting go and making your way into the kitchen to get the rest of dinner going. Turns out you can cook a good Christmas dinner, in fact you did it so well that the first year you didn’t have to after this was 4 years later when Mia Putellas-Y/l/n entered the world just 3 weeks before Christmas Day. 

#alexia putellas imagines #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #woso imagines #woso imagine #woso x reader

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Malleus Draconia Masquerade Dress Personal Story: Part 1

"We should begin from the top once more"

Part 1 (Part 2) (Part 3)

[Diasomnia Dorm – Lounge]

Malleus: As I have been invited to the first ever gathering of future mages…

Malleus: I wish to bestow my utmost gratitude to those from Noble Bell College who chose to include me.

Sebek: How kind of you, my lord…!

Lilia: Good thinking. There's no one in the world who wouldn't like to be thanked for their troubles.

Silver: I agree. I believe it would be a wonderful sentiment that would help break the ice with those new friends.

Lilia: Have you decided how you're going to give your thanks?

Malleus: I have been thinking for some time now… Only, nothing comes to mind.

Malleus: Do you three have any ideas for a gift worthy of my gratitude that I could bring to the cultural exchange?

Silver: A gift, hm. If it were me…

Silver: I would enjoy a cake.

Sebek: A cake? Who'd even think to bring anything perishable on a trip like this?

Silver: Perishables…? I see. I suppose a normal cake would not be suitable to bring on a 3-day, 2-night trip.

Silver: Then, perhaps if we were to make a dairy-free, non-perishable cake?

Lilia: Hm. You seem to be intent on suggesting a cake.

Lilia: I didn't expect you to think of a cake when asked about gifts. Did you always have a sweet tooth like this?

Silver: No, that isn't entirely the case…

Silver: I was only recalling the time I received a cake from you, Father, as a reward for the successful completion of a training mission.

Silver: I remember being very happy then, so I thought it'd be a good present.

Lilia: Kufufu… How nostalgic! I see, I see, so you really liked that, Hm.

Lilia: Then, maybe I should make a non-perishable cake for the students of Noble Bell College?

Silver: Ah, no! Not… Anything but...!

Sebek: LET'S NOT MAKE A CAKE!!

Malleus: I agree… To begin with, I do not like whole cakes, myself. I would prefer to gift something that I would also enjoy, if nothing else.

Malleus: Regrettably, I must reject the notion of a cake.

Lilia: Alright… Too bad, Silver.

Silver: Yes, thankfully. I mean, oh, so sad.

Sebek: …Well, does my lord truly need to bring anything as gratitude, in the first place?

Sebek: Coming from someone like Malleus-sama, just those words of appreciation should be enough...

Sebek: Rather, even gifting them a passing, "You there," should be a grand enough gift, pass down for generations!!

Lilia: I think you'd be the only person who'd accept something like that all teary-eyed, Sebek.

Malleus: Of course, I intend on giving a word of thanks as a matter of courtesy… However, I wish to present something more, to commemorate the event.

Lilia: Something that's not as hard to prepare as a cake, but also something more meaningful than mere words…

Lilia: Well, that narrows it down. And you all still have a ways to go if you still haven't realized what it should be.

Malleus: Oho, so you seem to have thought of something Lilia. How promising.

Lilia: Mhm. So, the gift you should bring is…

Lilia: MASS GAMES!

Silver/Sebek: Mass games?

Lilia: Oh, you don't know? It's a calisthenic exercise done as a group. In the past, the Kingsguard of Briar Valley would also participate in these activities.

Lilia: Many people become one entity, and by performing a seamless gymnastics routine together, it can showcase strong leadership…

Lilia: And completely overwhelm any person who witnesses it!

Silver: Father… I don't believe we're looking to overwhelm anyone here…

Lilia: Ah. You're right.

Malleus: …How troubling, we aren't getting anywhere. We are simply inexperienced with the proper knowledge on gatherings such as this.

Malleus: If only we could receive advice from someone well-versed in these matters…

[knocking]

Azul: Pardon me.

Malleus: Oh, if it isn't Ashengrotto. Is something the matter?

Azul: I received word from the Headmaster that you are joining the participants traveling to the cultural exchange.

Azul: In order to coordinate the groups for the field trip, I thought it would be more efficient to meet with you in person.

Malleus: That's right, you were attending as well. Thank you for coming all this way to inform us.

Lilia: These guys don't have much experience with travelling, you know. I hope you'll take care of the three of them!

Azul: Of course. I will assist in whatever way I can.

Azul: …In any case, it seems you've all been discussing something here with grave expressions. Whatever could possibly be the matter?

Azul: If there is something troubling you, I can absolutely be of assistance!!

Sebek: HUMPH! AS IF WE WOULD REQUEST HELP FROM SOMEONE FROM OCTAVINELLE!!

Lilia: Now, now, it wouldn't hurt to just chat about it with him.

Lilia: To tell you the truth, we've been talking about how we'd like to show our gratitude to Noble Bell College for the invitation.

Lilia: We're still hashing out the details.

Azul: Show your gratitude? To Noble Belle College? Malleus-san would?

Azul: …How wonderful! I won't charge a consultation fee, so please allow me to get in on this action… Er, rather, allow me to be of assistance!

Malleus: You mean to say you'll cooperate with us? I, of course, do not mind, but… Are you truly willing?

Azul: Why, yes, of course. I actually was intending on bring along with me a gift of my own in order to win over our hosts.

Azul: But if I am able to prepare something alongside the illustrious Malleus-san, it is sure to be worth even more. I am quite reassured by that thought.

Sebek: Heh… So you seem to understand just how amazing Malleus-sama is, then!

Silver: If someone as thoughtful as you are ordinarily joined us, this may be a more promising venture.

Silver: Do you have any thoughts as to what we should present to Noble Bell College?

Azul: Why, yes. The most ideal gift for this sort of event would be…

Azul: A song.

Malleus: A song?

Part 1 (Part 2) (Part 3)

Requested by @twsttrashqueen.

#twisted wonderland #twst #malleus draconia #azul ashengrotto #sebek zigvolt #lilia vanrouge #twst malleus #twst azul #twst silver #twst sebek #twst lilia #twst translation #twst glorious masquerade #mention: crowley

[vyncentevelyn]

Eddie knows magic. Ok, so not like El - not the superhero or Upside Down shit. No, Eddie knows parlor tricks, street magic. Before literal hell surfaced in Hawkins, he had a whole trick planned out for when he FINALLY graduated. But, as things are for Eddie, that didn’t quite happen. He got his degree, just no walk across the stuffy gym floor. No moment on the makeshift stage for him to blow the school’s mind one more time. No, instead he received his diploma in an envelope delivered by none other than Hopper. It was better this way, a quiet graduation for the Freak who some still believed was a Satanic murder come to ruin the town. And so, with the revelation of not being allowed to attend his own high school graduation, along with all of the Upside Down escapades, Eddie kind of gave up on the magic.

  But one day while the party hangs out at Steve’s house, Eddie pulls out all the stops.

Eddie is stir crazy. It’s raining. The pizza is nowhere near cooked and Argyle, despite all of his chill, will not allow the group to eat raw dough.

  Argyle grabs Eddie’s wrist to stop him from eating a ball of leftover dough, blinks his pink tinted eyes, and sternly says, “Dude. That is like totally against health code.”

“It’s not going to hurt me. I have honestly put worse in my mouth.” Eddie chides.

“Nope. No can do. If you can’t follow health code, you gotta vamoose my man.” Argyle shakes his head.

Eddie bites his lip and then snags a smaller piece of dough, quickly popping it in his mouth. He chews a closed mouth smile on his lips as he looks at Argyle.

“Dude. I tried to warn you.” Argyle looks at Eddie. “You are now banned from the kitchen.”

Argyle pushes Eddie, a little harder than Eddie was prepared for, towards the living room. Eddie kind of trips but styles it out into a twirl as he backs away from Argyle.

“My apologies.” Eddie says.

Argyle points to the living room. “You can come back when it’s ready.”

Jonathan laughs. Arms crossed as he watches with equally pink eyes, leaning up against the counter. He smiles warmly but offers no assistance to Eddie.

Will shoots Eddie a look as he walks by the island, it’s the kind of look that says his hands are tied, that he’s sorry. Eddie rolls his eyes back in response.

Mike barely registers the exchange as he focuses on something he and Will were working on, just nods at Eddie as if it was Eddie’s choice to leave the kitchen.

Max and Lucas are too busy canoodling at the dining room table to acknowledge anyone else. Eddie sticks his tongue out at them as he passes. They are too lost in each other to even notice that.

Defeated, Eddie sulks into Steve’s living room. He flops onto the ridiculously white, plush carpet in front of the couch. Some movie plays on the tv but Eddie cannot focus on the screen long enough to even figure out what it is. He opens drawer after drawer in the strange “apothecary” coffee table. Finally, he finds something. He jumps up clutching his prize to his chest.

He smirks down at the couch. Robin, Steve, El, Nancy, and Dustin stare back. They are now his captive audience.

Steve blinks his maple syrup eyes, “Whatcha got there Munson?”

Eddie just smiles. He steps up onto the coffee table, ignoring Nancy’s chiding, and turns to bow at the couch.

“Ladies, gentlemen, and ghouls. It is a pleasure to have you all here tonight.” Eddie bows, swooping his arms out wide.

“Is it though?” Dustin asks, pushing the pause button on the tv remote.

“Oh, but it is my dear lad. For tonight, you are joined by Eddie the Freak who will perform tricks no mortal has seen.”

“Tricks?” El’s voice sounds disapproving. “Friends don’t lie Eddie.”

Eddie blinks at the young girl, tilts his head and smiles, “Magic, my dear girl. Not lies – I assure you.” He places his hand on his heart to emphasize his honesty.

Her eyes grow wide, “Magic?”

It only takes El’s awestruck expression to get Eddie to up his game. But when he sees Steve’s own eyes expand in wonder, Eddie can’t help but fully step into the role as magician.

As if to answer El’s question, Eddie shows the deck of cards he had been hiding in his hand. El smiles but he can see the speculation in her eyes.

He opens the deck of cards, haphazardly tossing the cardboard box to the floor, and passes them to Steve, “Darlin, you mind giving these cards a shuffle?”

Steve blushes but takes the cards. He shuffles the cards and then hands them back to Eddie.

Eddie fans the cards out in front of El, “I want you to take one card out. Don’t let me see it but show it to everyone on the couch.”

El beams at Eddie before carefully picking a card from the fanned deck. Eddie collapses the deck and turns away from the couch as she shows each of the couch’s occupants the card she had chosen. Eddie peeks from his peripheral and asks, “Did everyone get a good look?”

“Yes.” El’s voice is stern but dripping in happiness.

Eddie turns back and stoops down on the coffee table to be level with El. He holds the deck in one hand out to El, “Now my dear, place the card back anywhere in the deck.”

“Back in the deck?” El muses. She studies the deck and then slips her card back in the stack.

Eddie begins to shuffle the deck, “I want you all to watch very carefully.” He looks at each of them as he moves the cards through one another. “I am going to make your card leave.”

“Leave?” El asks, turning to look at Steve and Robin for an explanation.

Steve shrugs before looking right back at Eddie. Robin raises her eyebrows and nods. El furrows her brow at Robin before turning to Nancy. Nancy smiles softly and points a manicured finger back to Eddie. El glances at Dustin who is too focused on Eddie’s hands to even register El. Sighing, she looks back at Eddie and tilts her head.

“I am going to get your card to leave the deck, to vanish.” Eddie explains, flipping through the cards. The soft sputtering of cardstock filling the silence. “Watch.” He flips over the first card to reveal the 5 of Clubs. “This is not your card, right?”

El smirks, “That is not my card.”

“Watch, El.” Eddie flips the card back over before snapping the card, the reverberation making a soft hum. “But this is your card.” Eddie smiles, flipping the card over again.

This time the Ace of Spades is face up.

El’s eyes grow wide.

  Dustin shakes his head in disbelief.

  Nancy makes a small chuckle.

  Robin softly mutters, “Wow...”

  “Holy shit.” Steve swears.

“Ah, ah.” Eddie coos, “We’re not quite down yet.” He smirks at each one, holding eye contact just a little longer with Steve who is openly gaping at him. Eddie feels a sense of pride slip over each vertebra in his spine. He looks back at El, “Now, I told you I would get this card to leave, right?”

“Yes.” El replies.

“Here it goes.” Eddie turns the card over and places it back in the stack. “Watch, I’m going to shake it.” He moves the whole deck and his hand to the side before bringing it back to center with El. “Do you think it’s gone?”

El shakes her head. Eddie flicks his eyes over the rest of his audience. Each one is staring at the deck, and each one looks like they know what is about to happen.

He flips the first card back over, again revealing the 5 of Clubs, “It’s gone.”

El’s eyes narrow. “I do not believe you.”

“It’s gotta still be in the deck.” Dustin argues.

El nods in agreement.

Eddie smirks. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Dustin and El say in unison.

“Do me a favor El, ask Steve to check his back pocket.”

The whole couch turns to look at Steve. Steve stares back, with wide eyes, “I am in no way involved in this.”

“You didn’t feel me touch you, right? Not your hair, not your clothes. Nothing?” Eddie asks.

“No…?” Steve’s voice is wary, the pink returning to his cheeks and ears.

El looks at Steve, “Stand up.”

Steve stands from the couch and Eddie rises to full height with him. He smiles down at them from his coffee table stage as Steve reaches into his back pocket. Steve freezes. His hand still in his back right pocket.

“No.” Steve shakes his head. “Fucking no.”

“What is it, Stevie?” Eddie pulls a strand of his hair across his mouth.

“No.” Steve says again as he pulls the card out of his back pocket.

He flips the card over.

The Ace of Spades sits proudly in his hand.

Dustin laughs, “What the hell!”

Robin shakes her head, “That is insane.”

Nancy smiles, eyes bright and for a second she looks years younger. She claps her hands together in applause.

  “NO!” Steve yells.

El bursts into laughter. Her eyes shine as she stares up at Eddie, “You are magic.”

Steve is running with the card into the kitchen, “Max! Jonathan! Argyle! Lucas! Will! Mike! He’s…Eddie! He’s magic!”

Eddie smiles at where Steve disappeared into the kitchen. He can hear Steve gush to the group gathered in the kitchen. His heart beating fast with excitement and pride as Steve’s voice raises with wonder during his retelling. And he thinks for his next performance he will have an audience of one. He thinks he’ll bring his handcuffs over to Steve’s house and show him a different kind of magic trick…

#stranger things #headcanon #eddie munson #steve harrington #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #will byers #jonathan byers #lucas sinclair #mike wheeler #dustin henderson #max mayfield #el hopper #steddie #ronance #argyle x jonathan #lucas x max #magic #magic tricks #card tricks #magician #handcuff #tease #steve and robin #ficlet

[002yb]

If only to be privy to whatever the other bats are doing for the night, Jason tunes into the family’s comm line and listens in.  It never fails that something interesting will be said:  useful case information, developing situations needing attention, blackmail material.  Most of it is just mindless chatter and easy banter that help pass the time, but on occasion the chirping in his ear has some payoff.

Turns out tonight is that night, because about halfway through patrol Jason hears Bruce gruffly call out, “Has anyone seen or heard from Nightwing?”

It’s a question Jason has been waiting on for most of the evening, because in addition to job-relevant information and casual family nonsense, the comms are usually filled with Dick’s morale-boosting witticisms and his particular brand of menace; cunning mischievousness and playful manipulation to tease and provoke depending on Dick’s mood that day.

Jason wonders if maybe he’s the only one that noticed Dick’s absence because it’s usually only Jason on the receiving end of all Dick’s sportive impishness.  It’s become a months-old game between them now, biting and sniping banter over the comms; Dick laughing when Jason happens to stump him or Jason flustering so hard that he cuts off the line, only to return some time later to start in again.

Surely everyone realized before halfway into their patrol for the night.  It’s been so damn quiet and boring.  Which is fine on occasion if the night is particularly hectic, but it’s not and Jason has been fidgeting all night in anticipation of Dick reaching out to provoke Jason’s ire, to startle a laugh out of him, to challenge him to some nonsense or to shoot the shit.  To go from a nightly exchange to nothing has been miserable, though Jason won’t tell anyone.

So when Bruce finally brings up the fact that Dick is MIA, Jason’s ears perk and he listens close.  There are a string of ‘no’ and ‘negative,’ which prompts Alfred to check Dick’s last pinged location and the time of it.  Surprisingly, it implies that Dick is at his flat; that he’s been there since about three quarters of his way through his shift at the pigpen that is the GCPD.

“I’m nearby.” Jason says, forcibly cool and casual although the information given is concernedly bizarre and uncharacteristic.  “I’ll check in.”

Dick’s flat is some blocks away from the Alley.  It’s not a ‘nice’ part of town, but it is one in sore need of attention.  Most neighborhoods in Gotham are disastrous, but Jason appreciates that Dick chose to stay in one of those that are worse-off so that he could be more readily available to the higher number of crimes and crises that hit the area.

“Yes, thank you.” Bruce tells him.  The gentle gratitude sends a pleased shiver up Jason’s spine, a small smile to his lips that he quickly tamps back down to something more characteristically bratty although there’s no one around to see him–although he’s got a full fucking helmet over his face, but still.  Brattiness feels safer than whatever eagerness almost took hold of him.  With a half-hearted grunt of acknowledgement, Jason reroutes himself in the direction of Dick’s flat.

Before Jason gets anywhere at all though, Cass cuts through the comm with a cheeky, “Miss?”

Jason sputters, “No I don’t miss him.”

“Your petulant despondency tonight speaks volumes to your keenness, Hood.” Damian chimes in, taunting in a way that’s vaguely Dick.  It’s something Jason has been noticing and he can’t say he’s ‘keen’ on that.  Probably because Jason isn’t fucking keen on Dick.

“First off, I’m not sulking.” Jason gripes, lying through his teeth because in truth he had been kind of brooding all night as he waited in vain on Dick.  Still, being called out by an actual child is so embarrassing.  Jason knows his cheeks are probably just as red as his helmet now.  He growls, “Second, it’s not being keen.  It’s being efficient with our resources; I’m most conveniently located, so strategically–”

“Strategically, you should stay on Alley patrol.” Tim, the smart-aleck fucker, fucking needles him. “I’m not too much further out; Spoiler can cover–”

“How about you fuck off.  I’m already enroute.” Jason complains, petulantly despondent.

Read more on Ao3

-------

Note:  Posting this was a harrowing journey (of posting, mistakenly deleting, then having to repost like a loser ahhhhahaha) and I’m so embarrassed now that I’ll be disappearing for the next 87 years.  So long, farewell.

#dickjay #jaydick #jason todd #dick grayson